The Ghost of the Redcoat
by jenorama
Summary: Ginny is in Boston for a conference and gets more than she bargained for when she buys Harry a gift.
1. Chapter 1

"Boston, huh?" Harry asked as he perused the pamphlet before tossing it onto the bed.

"Yes! It's an amazing opportunity and UCSF is paying for the whole thing!" I said, practically fizzing over with excitement. When Dr Ramirez had pulled me and Ben aside that afternoon and told us about the conference, we'd had to find an out-of-the-way supply closet to jump around and shout in.

"When is it?" Harry stretched out on the bed, putting his hands behind his head. I knew exactly what he was doing as he purposely let the bottom of his shirt ride up, exposing the dark lines of ink that trailed down into the waistband of his jeans. I never would have suggested that spot for his stag tattoo if I'd known how much he'd use it against me.

"Next week," I said, turning my back to him as I rummaged around in our closet, looking for my waterproof boots. I'd been warned that Boston in December was likely to be slushy. "And before you ask I'll be gone a week."

"It's a bit last minute, isn't it? And a whole week?" I grinned at the petulant tone in his voice, imagining the look on his face.

"It _is_ a bit last minute. The original invitees had to drop out and the tickets were already paid for, so they didn't want to just let them go to waste. The conference itself is only three days, but we're taking a few extra days to see the sights. There's a lot of history in Boston, Muggle and wizard, and I want to take it all in." I spied my boots shoved way at the back and I grabbed them. I hadn't worn them at all since moving to California and they smelled musty.

I backed out of the closet and set the boots on the floor of the bedroom, hitting them with a Freshening Charm. "So you're abandoning me for sick people and history." Harry was now lying on his side with his head propped up on his elbow, more of that damnable tattoo exposed. Against my will, my eyes traced the shape of the antlers, following the lines down to where they disappeared.

"I'm not abandoning just you this time. You _and_ Teddy," I said, refusing to be drawn in to his 'poor me' act. "And there shouldn't be any sick people actually at the conference. It's all about Internal Medicine and how to make sick people better." I turned back to the closet, looking for all of my warmest jumpers.

I was bent over, digging through a drawer I hadn't opened in months when I felt his arms go around my waist and his lips on my neck. "You're a heartless, cold woman," he whispered, the soft sound of his voice making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

"It's a wonder you can stand me," I murmured as I continued to sort through the jumpers.

He changed his tactics and stuck his hands up underneath my top, running just the tips of his fingers over the thin skin covering my ribs, unerringly finding where I was most ticklish. "Well, all of that Auror training had to be good for something, yeah?" I shivered when his tongue darted out to flick against my earlobe and heard him huff in triumph at my reaction.

"And now all you do is sit on your arse all day while I'm stuck running mine off at hospital, valiantly saving lives." I gave up on my quest for jumpers and closed my eyes, enjoying his warm hands stroking my skin.

"What I do is very important and besides, I'm still assistant coach of the cross-country team and I know you love it when I come in all sweaty," he said, pulling me closer to him. I could feel him hard against my bottom and I turned my head to kiss him.

Our lips had barely met when our twelve-year-old godson came into our bedroom, astronomy textbook in hand. "Harry, can you help me with—" he began, looking up from his book at us with a frown on his face. "What are you guys both doing in the closet?"

"Ginny is going on a trip next week and I was helping her sort some things out," Harry said, his voice containing only a trace of exasperation. "What do you need?"

"You're going somewhere? Where are you going?" Teddy asked me, all thoughts of homework gone.

"I'm going to Boston for a conference with Ben," I said, hoping that my face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Ben's going, too? Can I come?"

"No, love. It's going to be all work and no fun." I put on an exaggerated sad expression and shook my head.

"No fair. I never get to go anywhere," he sighed. Never mind the fact that we'd had a very busy summer of camping, road trips and another trip down the Colorado River and were going back to England for the Christmas holidays.

"Yeah, your life is so difficult," Harry said, reaching for the textbook. "What was it you said you needed help on?"

"Oh, so I was looking at this equation for calculating distances between stars …" Teddy said as Harry led him back into the lounge. As they left the room, he threw a look at me over his shoulder that clearly said, _I'm not done with you yet._

Later that night, I nestled my head on Harry's bare shoulder, breathing deep as my heart returned to its normal rhythm. He'd made good on his promise, coming back to our bedroom once he'd gotten Teddy settled and in bed, those green eyes of his dark with desire. I was still sorting out things in the closet, having decided that I might as well give it a good going-through while I was in there and I had two good-sized piles of clothes on the bed.

"Harry, do you still want this?" I asked, holding up a black tee shirt that was so old it was almost gray. Now that I had a closer look at it, I saw there were several holes in the shirttail and I balled it up, tossing it on the discard pile. "What about this?" I held up another shirt and he snatched it out of my hand and tossed it aside.

"You are packing up to leave me for a whole week and you're asking me which ratty old shirts I want to keep?" he asked, picking up another shirt off the pile and tossing it over his shoulder. He blindly grabbed another item and looked down at the worn-out old bra he held. "You're getting rid of this one?" he asked, holding up the sad scrap of lace and elastic.

"Harry, that thing is ancient. I haven't worn it in years!" I said, making a grab for it. He tried to block me, but I managed to get a hand on it and tugged, trying to surprise him and failing. Grinning, he gave a hard jerk on the poor old thing and pulled me into him, wrapping his arms tightly around me and putting his mouth on mine, ending my giggles.

"If you haven't worn it in years, then why do you still have it?" he asked when we separated, both breathing hard. "Sentimental value?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Maybe. Do you remember the first time you saw me in it?"

"I definitely do," Harry said, unbuttoning my shirt and spreading it wide open, eyes roving over my bared skin. I was glad I'd decided to wear one of my nicer bras that day.

"When was that?" I asked, barely able to get the words out as he bent his head to nibble on the side of my neck.

I could feel his smile against my skin before he answered. "When you Apparated into my flat and seduced me."

"What? _I_ seduced _you_?" I put my hand against his chest, feeling the fast beat of his heart and pushed him a little away so I could look up at him. "I'm sorry, but I seem to remember _you_ being the half-naked one."

"Half-naked," Harry snorted, taking the opportunity of the distance between us to push my shirt off my shoulders. "I didn't have a shirt on, big deal."

"I seem to be missing a shirt right about now," I said, letting it slip off my arms and fall to the floor behind me.

Harry raised both of his eyebrows and grinned. "I know," he said in a low voice, the sound of it practically making my toes curl. The bedroom door closed of its own accord and then it was just the two of us like it used to be before Teddy came to stay and go to school at St Ambrose's.

"Showoff," I murmured into Harry's thick, dark hair as he continued to nibble and suck at my neck. "Don't leave any marks," I admonished when I felt him use his teeth on a tendon.

"You don't tell me what to do," he said, pulling back and looking at me. His lips were red and swollen and I went up on my tiptoes to kiss him, dragging my lips over his stubbled cheek to the side of his neck where I gave him a sharp nip, making him grunt.

"I certainly told you what to do that night, didn't I?" I asked, looking up into his eyes, noticing that he was just starting to get crow's feet in the corners when he smiled as he was doing now.

"Yeah you did. I think turnabout's fair play, don't you?"

"You do, do you? All right then. Let's have it," I said, crossing my arms and taking a step back. I loved putting him on the spot like this and making him squirm. Harry was truly the best lover I'd ever had, but after years of our on-and-off relationship and even being married, he could still be oddly shy about some things. He stood there staring at me, looking a bit lost and I arched an eyebrow. "Well? What do you want me to do, oh Chosen One?"

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Don't call me that, for starters."

"What should I call you?" I asked in my sultriest tone, trying not to laugh. "Darling?" He lifted an eyebrow and I tried again. "Sugar?" I asked in what Harry called my absolutely deplorable Southern accent and he simply smirked. "Baby?" I whispered and his face flooded with red, a tingling thrill shooting through my belly. I lifted my chin and stared at him, a small smile on my lips, waiting to see what he would do.

He took off his glasses, setting them carefully aside on top of his dresser and crooked his finger, summoning me to him. Heart pounding, I stepped toward him, until only the barest inch separated us. "Now what?" Still silent, he took my hands and put them on his hips as he brought his lips down to mine, kissing me the way he knew I loved to be kissed: slow and gentle at first with a slow build up until we were both fully engaged in exploring each other's mouths.

His hands, always so much warmer than mine, trailed up and down my bare arms, raising gooseflesh in their wake and making me shiver even though our apartment was comfortably warm. I unbuttoned his shirt and ran the flat of my palm over the hair covering his stomach, remembering how I'd once threatened to use a Depilatory Charm on him. He'd rightly known it for an utterly empty threat. Still thinking about that damned tattoo, I unbuckled his belt and quickly unfastened his jeans, the sound of the zipper somehow louder than our breathing in the quiet room.

I pushed his boxers and jeans down and they landed on the floor of the bedroom with a jingle of keys and change, putting the flat of my palm over the stag on his hip and rubbing my thumb over the bony protrusion of his pelvis. Far from idle himself, he made short work of my bra clasp, sweeping his hands down from my shoulders to my bum, giving me a fluttering sensation in my stomach. Not to be outdone, I shifted my hands around to his bum, squeezing as hard as I could and making him grunt.

"Is that all you have to say?" I said, breaking away from his kisses and mimicking his grunt.

"What am I supposed to say when you manhandle me like that?" he asked, squeezing me in return and making me squeak in indignation.

"I thought you liked it." I pulled his hips into mine, sandwiching his hard cock between our bodies.

"I do like it," he murmured as he nuzzled my ear, tongue darting out to trace along the edge.

"Well all right then. A girl just likes to be sure." I reached down between us and took him in my hand, loving the feeling of the velvety soft skin of his cock against my palm. Before I knew it, my own trousers and knickers were on the floor and Harry's mouth was back on mine, hard and insistent as he stole my breath. He trailed one hand up from my waist, light as a feather, to my breast and squeezed hard, making me gasp as I felt a rush of wetness between my legs.

My blood was rushing everywhere in my body but my brain and I began to feel a bit lightheaded. I swayed on my feet, reflexively tightening my hold on Harry's cock more than he was comfortable with and he let out his own squeak. "Hey, easy," he said looking down at me. "All right?"

"Why, Mr Potter, I do declare that you have me positively _swooning,_ " I said, draping my arms around his neck and fluttering my eyelashes in my best southern belle fashion.

"That is so _awful_ ," he said, shaking his head at me. "And you're usually so good at accents."

"Let's get on that bed and I'll show you what else I'm good at."

"Mrs Potter, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yes." Harry swept me up and tossed me onto the bed where I landed amid the clothes I'd been trying to sort out before things had taken their current turn. Still in his unbuttoned shirt, he practically jumped on top of me, smothering my face, neck and breasts in kisses, the scratchy stubble of his face making me giggle. Feeling like I was being drowned in old clothes, I tried to shove the piles off of the bed as he made his way down my stomach before settling between my legs and kissing the tops of my thighs.

"What are you doing? Stop kicking," he said, sitting back and grabbing hold of my ankles.

"There's stuff all over the bed. I want to donate these, not have sex on top of them!"

Harry looked at the piles on the bed and then at me. He made quite an interesting sight in the unbuttoned white shirt with his dark hair more disarrayed than usual, framed by my raised legs. He let go of my legs and leaned forward, kissing me just under my belly button. "We can still donate them," he said, trailing kisses further down and making my breath come short.

"We'll have to wash them first," I protested, my heart hammering in my chest when he pressed his tongue against my clit.

"Do we?" he murmured, green eyes gleaming wickedly.

"Don't be disgusting," I sighed as he bent to his work in earnest. His warm breath and wet tongue soon drove all thoughts of clothing donations out of my mind, leaving me gasping and shivering as he very deliberately brought me to the brink of coming and then back down again. I wrapped my fingers in his hair, trying to make him behave and give me the release I so desperately wanted, but he grabbed my wrists, holding my hands at my sides as I bucked my hips against his face.

Closing my eyes, I chased falling stars across my eyelids as I concentrated on what Harry was doing to me, his fingers having joined his lips and tongue as he finally decided that I had endured enough of his sweet torture and I came with a long, low groan, conscious of our godson in the apartment. Bathed in sweat, I rubbed my hands over my face, pushing my hair out of the way. I opened my eyes to the sight of Harry kneeling between my legs and running his hand over his hard cock, still in that unbuttoned shirt. "What?" I whispered, acutely conscious of the flush of blood in the pale skin of my chest and neck.

Harry shook his head and smiled, his slightly crooked dogtooth peeping out as he pushed a pile of clothes off the bed to the floor, stretching out beside me. "I love watching you come," he whispered into my ear as if he were telling me a long-held secret.

"Do you?" I asked, turning on my side to face him, pulling him gently toward me for a kiss. Tasting myself on him always gave me a bit of an illicit thrill and I eagerly delved into his mouth with my tongue until he groaned and pushed me back. "Want to see me do it again?" Harry nodded and I watched the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "Come here," I whispered, hands on his shoulders as he settled himself between my legs.

We both groaned as he rubbed the head of his cock over my clit and labia before slowly entering me, holding his body still in my embrace until I couldn't stand it anymore and started moving my hips, sighing when he began to move in sync. I slid my hands underneath the fabric of his shirt, luxuriating in the feeling of the muscles in his back sliding underneath his soft skin as we moved together.

Before too long, the pace of our lovemaking ratcheted up a notch and he began to push harder, making my breath explode out of me in harsh pants as we both tried to keep the noise down. The bed hadn't gotten the memo to be quiet and started to creak in time with our rhythm and Harry began to shake with suppressed laughter.

"I thought you fixed that," I said between thrusts, my words punctuated by a creak each time.

"I thought I had." Harry stopped moving and heaved us over, leaving me on top of him looking down at his cheeky grin. "Now if Teddy looks at us funny in the morning, it's all your fault."

"Always looking for a way to blame me for your shortcomings, Potter," I said, planting my hands on his chest and as I started to slide up and down, creating the friction we both craved. No longer occupied by holding himself up, Harry's hands were free to roam over my body and he wasted no time, cupping my breasts as he swept his thumbs over my nipples, raising them to hard points before pinching them roughly, making me suck in a breath at the pleasurably painful sensation.

Apparently, I wasn't moving fast enough for him because he put his hands on my hips and started moving his own, thrusting upwards and making the bed creak once more. "You're not going to blame this one on me," I huffed as I looked down at his grin.

He glanced at the bedside clock. "He should be asleep by now and if he's not, then that's his problem," he said matter-of-factly, one hand letting go of my hip to rub mercilessly at my clit until I came with several shuddering moans, clapping my hand over my mouth as Harry reversed our positions again, rolling me onto my back. With his lips on my neck, I held on for dear life as he pounded into me, his panting breaths rasping in my ear until I felt him pulsing deep inside as he came with a series of low moans that almost set me off again.

I felt like my whole body was tingling as he relaxed on top of me, his weight comforting and familiar. "All right?" I whispered, sweeping his sweaty fringe from his forehead.

"Yeah. You?" He shifted off of me and finally took off the shirt, tossing it to the floor. Together we moved around until we were snugged up underneath the covers.

"Brilliant. I'm not even cross that half of our closet is strewn all over the room." Harry took his wand from his nightstand and waved it, sending all of the various shirts, trousers, jumpers and other things back into the closet. "Well now I'll have to start the sort all over again," I complained as I settled my head on his shoulder.

"I'll help you tomorrow. There's a bunch of stuff I need to get rid of," he said and I knew he was thinking about his old Auror clothes. _I wonder if Ron's gotten rid of his or if he's still hanging on to them?_ I thought as I listened to Harry's heart regain its normal, familiar rhythm.

"Are you all right with me going to Boston?" I asked after several quiet moments.

"Yeah, of course. It's a good opportunity for you and Ben, isn't it?" he said, sounding as if he had been on the brink of sleep.

"It is. I'm glad you're not making a fuss."

"It wouldn't matter if I did, would it?"

I considered his question. He'd never stood in the way of my ambition to become a fully-qualified Muggle doctor in addition to my Healer qualification. He confessed that he didn't fully understand it, but he respected my decision. That didn't stop him from complaining mightily that my first-year resident duties kept me away from home far too much, but one argument where I pointed out all of the times he'd had to skip out on me because of Auror business put paid to that. "Well, I wouldn't want you to be upset, but no. I'd go anyway." I turned my head to look up at him in the dim light of the bedroom. "And I'd buy you something ridiculously expensive to make up for it."

Harry chuckled and kissed the top of my head. "It'd have to be pretty expensive to get me out of my strop."

"Well, you have no worries on that score. In addition to making you come, I'm pretty good at spending money." I gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and settled down back on his shoulder, content to let sleep overtake me.

"Look at you! Sitting here on this plane as calm as you please," Ben said, beaming at me happily.

"Why shouldn't I be calm? These things have been flying around in the sky for ages," I said, watching the endless line of people slowly shuffling past. _How many people does this thing hold?_ I wondered, craning my neck to look behind me.

"Well, not everyone likes to fly. It can get a little bit bumpy sometimes and some people focus on all of the disaster stories," he said, arranging headphones and his book in the little pocket in front of him.

I looked around and leaned in toward him. "Well, between you and me, if this plane shows any hint of going down, I'm Apparating us out of here."

"Promise?" he asked, holding out his pinky. I linked mine with his and we shook before dissolving into giggles.

"Why are you flying in a plane to Boston?" Teddy had asked as he watched me pack my new rolling suitcase. "How come you're not taking a Portkey?"

"Well, we had to go through quite a bit of trouble to get Ben to go to England with us by Portkey when we got married," I said as I shrunk down several jumpers. It had been the one time that I hadn't felt the least bit awful of taking advantage of Harry's fame. "Besides, it would hardly be fair if I got to Boston in a nanosecond and poor Ben had to fly all those hours by himself, would it?" I put my hands on my hips and looked at him sitting cross-legged on our bed. "What kind of friend would that make me?"

"I guess that would be pretty awful," he agreed, looking down at his portable game system. Sometimes I wondered if he heard two words out of five from us.

Harry had given me a briefing of the Muggle security procedures, cautioning me against making any sort of joke of any kind while going through security. "The last thing you need is to be pulled aside for extra screening, all right?" he'd said, face serious as he schooled me on practically getting naked and putting everything into a little bin.

"Even this?" I said, holding out the brand new little phone I was still learning how to use.

"Even that."

"All right then. How's this?" I stood up and put a blank look on my face, walking around the lounge in jerky, robotic movements. "How do you do? Nice weather we're having," I said in a monotone, holding my hand out to him. Harry just shook his head, unimpressed.

Finally, the flood of people seemed to slow down and end before the flight attendants (Ben had told me 'stewardess' was out of favor) told us what we should do in case the plane did indeed run into land or water before its intended landing time. Watching them mime putting on oxygen masks and inflate floating vests made me a little bit nervous and my hand crept out to Ben's, seeking reassurance. He looked away from his magazine and smiled, giving my hand a squeeze and I felt my nerves settle.

The plane started moving and I stared out of the little window as we rose up into the air with a little bump and a whirr of landing gear. "Not quite as exhilarating as going up on a broom," I whispered to Ben. He rolled his eyes. Despite all of my entreaties, he refused to go up with me, citing his lousy sense of balance.

Before too long, the flight attendants came by with a rolling cart offering drinks. "Finally," Ben said, putting away his magazine. "Let me have two bottles of vodka and two tomato juices," he said, folding down the little table from the seat in front of him. I watched as he opened two of the tiniest bottles of vodka I'd ever seen and poured them into the two plastic cups of tomato juice and handed me one. "To your first flight in an airplane," he said, grinning widely.

We bumped our cups together and I took a sip, the burn of alcohol pleasing with the saltiness of the tomato juice. "Thank you, you're very sweet."

"I am. That Benadryl I took should be kicking in aaaaaany minute now." He finished his drink and fished around in his bag, pulling out a thin blanket and a sleep mask. "Wake me when we're close to landing," he said, pulling the mask down over his eyes. It was rather like putting a cover over a birdcage and I think he was asleep within seconds.

I spent the rest of my first cross-country flight reading about the sights in Boston. Harry had given me a little guidebook and I went through it, circling things I wanted to do. "Oh, this looks interesting," I said to myself, reading the entry on haunted Boston. It seemed that there were several nighttime ghost tours on offer and I marked the page for further investigation.

I was just starting to wonder how much longer we had to go when I felt that subtle shift in my stomach that meant the plane was headed downwards and I nudged Ben, hoping that he'd wake up all right and I wouldn't have to intervene. "What," he said, sounding both sleepy and cross as he yawned hugely. "Ugh, do you have any water?"

"Did you have a good sleep? I think we're close to landing," I said, handing him one of the little bottles of water the flight attendant had dropped off. He drank the whole thing down at once, smacking his lips loudly.

Ben wiped his eyes and yawned again, excusing himself to the toilet. "Benadryl always makes me have to pee so bad," he grumbled, looking much more like himself when he returned. "So, what have you been up to?" I showed him the guidebook and he thumbed through it, looking at all of the marked pages. "You've been busy. What's this? A haunted bar? We're definitely going there! What else … oh! A whole section on antique shops!"

"I thought you'd like that. I want to find something for Harry while we're here. I promised him something ridiculously expensive to make up for abandoning him for a week," I said, looking over his shoulder.

"Well, there's no shortage of expensive around here," Ben murmured as he turned the page. "Do you want to do one of these ghost tours? I've always wanted to do one, but they always seem so hokey, you know?"

"Hokey?" I said, wrinkling my nose at the unfamiliar word. "Is that the same as 'lame'?"

"Yes, but more of an old-fashioned kind of lame."

"D'you think there are any actual ghosts on these sorts of things? Like the ones at Hogwarts?" I smiled, remembering Ben's reaction to learning that Hogwarts harbored real, actual ghosts like Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron.

"I doubt it. I think it's mostly the thrill of walking around in the dark in a strange place with a group of strangers. But still it'd be fun!" Ben turned another page. "Oooh, beer tasting! Let's do that, too!" We spent the rest of the descent with our heads together over the guidebook, talking over what we wanted to do once the conference was over.

Back on the ground, I followed Ben through the confounding maze of Logan International Airport, finally arriving at baggage claim. While we were waiting, I remembered my little phone in my pocket and took it out, turning it back on. Once the screen came back up, I was assaulted by all sorts of chimes and beeps. "Somebody missed you," Ben remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"A couple of somebodies it looks like," I said reading over the messages from Teddy and Harry. Teddy's were in the vein of _Have you landed yet?_ and _What are you bringing me?_ Harry's were more straight to the point. _Message me when you land. Be safe. I love you._ I felt a welcome warmth at their messages and quickly texted them back.

To Teddy, I sent _Landed safe and sound. Still in the airport, so no shopping yet. Listen to Harry or you'll get nothing!_

 _Harry, we're at the airport and all is well. Getting bags. Will call you when I'm at the hotel. Love you!_

 _Thank you. Be careful. Talk to you soon,_ was Harry's swift response.

The baggage carousel rumbled to life in front of us and I put the phone away, eagerly looking for our luggage. Soon we had our bags in hand and I looked at Ben. "What now?" I asked as he checked out transportation options.

"Hm, it looks pretty terrible out there and the line for taxis looks really long." Ben looked at me speculatively. "Can you …?" he asked, twitching his nose like that witch in that old television show.

"Maybe. Where's the hotel again?" I dug around in my purse for the Boston Magical Visitor's guide. "There should be something in here to help us out."

"Um … over by Copley Square," Ben said, checking the reservation paperwork.

"All right then, let's see what I can find." I thumbed through the guide until I found mention of Copley Square. "Looks like there's a spot disguised as a permanently closed refreshment stand. That should do." I studied the image and the description, fixing it in my mind until I felt like I had it cemented in place and I nodded to Ben. "Let's go."

"Magic is so awesome," he whispered as he took my hand and we headed off to a deserted alcove. An instant of squeezing nothing and we were dumped into icy coldness that took my breath away. Five minutes of chilly walking and we were embraced by the blessed warmth of the grand hotel lobby. I let Ben handle the check-in process, handing over the credit card Harry had given me before we left for "incidentals".

"Oh, excellent, we're next door to each other," Ben said as we walked through the posh lobby to the gleaming bank of elevators. I found myself comparing it to the Plaza Harry and I had spent a memorable night in once upon a time.

"I hope the walls aren't too thin," I said, nudging him with my elbow. His cheeks flushed pink and he giggled.

"Listen, if you see a tie hanging on the doorknob, just cast one of your little spells and you won't have to worry about your beauty sleep being interrupted."

"I doubt there's a spell strong enough," I snorted, skipping lightly into the elevator ahead of him.

"Oooh, a challenge! I like it!" Outside of our rooms, we agreed to meet up for dinner in half an hour. "That should give you enough time to freshen up and call your lover boy," he said with a lascivious grin as he closed his door.

"Hello, lover boy," I purred when Harry answered his phone.

"Lover boy? What's that about?" he asked, amused at my greeting.

"It's what Ben called you just now. I like the sound of it. You're my lover boy," I said, feeling silly. "Oh my God, Harry. Traveling like a Muggle is exhausting! How do they do it?"

Harry chuckled and I felt a longing in my gut. "Where are you?" he asked.

"At the hotel. It's nice, but not as nice as the Plaza." I stretched my arms above my head and sighed. "The bed's not nearly as comfortable."

"Oh? What's it like, then?"

"Cold and empty without you in it."

"That's too bad, then."

"I could Summon you," I said, imagining that I could feel the ink of the hummingbird that decorated my upper arm.

"You could, yes. And then who would keep an eye on Teddy and teach my classes?" Harry said, his voice warm and mellow in my ear. I imagined him on the recliner in the lounge, one arm behind his head as his glasses slipped down his nose.

"You wouldn't need to stay. Just warm my bed and cuddle me until I fell asleep. And draw my bath, scrub my back, get my breakfast …"

"Oh, is that all? I'll be right over, then."

"No, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. I'll manage on my own," I sighed, warmed by his soft chuckle.

"What are you doing next? Dinner?"

"Yeah. I'm supposed to meet Ben in … twenty minutes," I said, looking at my watch.

"Conference starts tomorrow?"

"Bright and early. We get breakfast!"

"That's the best part!" We chatted a little bit more, Harry filling me in on Teddy's doings and his upcoming week and before I was ready to say goodbye, Ben was knocking on my door.

"I've got to go, love. Ben's at the door. It's been half an hour already!"

"I don't want to keep your gay boyfriend waiting. I'll talk to you later, all right?" He paused for a moment before saying, "Call me when you go to bed."

"Oh? Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?" I asked, my heart speeding up.

"Maybe," he said softly, sounding almost as if he were right there in the room with me.

"I can hardly wait," I whispered back.

We decided that we were far too tired to venture out into the cold night, so we had dinner at the hotel's restaurant while we perused the conference documents. I was looking forward to the sessions I'd signed up for, but Ben wrinkled his nose at my choices.

"What's all this geriatrics business?" he said as he sipped his martini.

"Well, witches and wizards tend to live a lot longer than Muggles," I said, reading over a summary on a session about managing chronic illness in the elderly. "We end up spending a lot more of our time being old."

"Wait, what? Like how long?"

I put down the catalog and sat back, thinking. "Let's see … Dumbledore was over one hundred and fifteen when he died and he definitely had a few more years left in him. He was very spry. My auntie Muriel has got to be over one hundred by now and there's loads of old fossils on the Wizengamot." I looked back at Ben who was staring at me, eyes wide. "What?"

He shook his head and drank more of his martini. "I just never really thought about it, I guess. I thought that we would grow old together," he said, bumping my shoulder with his. "So when you're sixty, you'll still look like you're forty?"

"If I'm lucky and stay out of the sun," I said, taking a sip of my wine. "Does that bother you?"

Ben shrugged and looked down at the appetizer, spearing a crispy pot sticker. "I don't know. I guess maybe a little? Is there anything that witches and wizards can die of?"

"Oh, sure. I mean, there's dragon pox; that one did for Harry's grandparents. We can be shot or stabbed like any other person; we can get cancer. We just tend not to get the other illnesses that can wear a body down over time," I said, thinking of poor Gilderoy Lockhart and the Longbottoms. Their minds were destroyed, but their bodies would last for a long, long time yet.

I pulled my thoughts away from problems I couldn't solve and smiled at Ben. "What've you got? Children and babies?" We spent the rest of dinner discussing the different sessions and the social mixer the next evening until we were both yawning. Ben looked at his watch and made a face.

"Ugh, it's barely seven-thirty at home! Let's go out!" he said, covering another yawn, making me yawn in turn.

"Tempting, but no. I need to be on my toes for tomorrow. Lots of new people to meet. We have to do UCSF Medical School proud, don't we?"

"I guess we do. You're like my own little Jiminy Cricket," he said and I frowned.

"What sort of cricket am I?"

"Never mind. Remind me to show you Pinocchio when we get home."

Back in my room, I decided to take the time to unpack, putting away the myriad of jumpers, jeans, underwear and warm socks away in the drawers. In the middle of all of my clothes, I found a Chocolate Frog and I smiled, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading out from my chest. I opened the package and caught the frog, stuffing it into my mouth before it could make a getaway. I pulled the card out of the box and laughed out loud as Harry's stern face looked back at me.

I turned it over and read the back _. Harry Potter, Order of Merlin, First Class. After defeating Voldemort at the age of seventeen, Harry joined the Aurors where he received several service awards. After leaving the Aurors, Harry moved to the United States and took a position teaching Defense at the top-rated Wizarding school in the US. While at Hogwarts, Harry was the youngest Seeker in over a century, playing the position for Gryffindor and rising to Captain._

"One of the newer ones, then," I said, picking up my phone. I knew the company had sent him new copy wanting to include our marriage, but he'd refused to allow that. "Hello, youngest Seeker in a century," I murmured when he answered the call.

"You found the card?" he said, the pleasure in his voice coming through loud and clear.

"I did. Is it from that box they sent you last year?"

"Yeah. Was the frog still good?"

"I hope so. I ate it."

"Of course you did," he said, laughing softly. "What are you doing?"

"Unpacking, obviously. And then I'm going to go to bed. Ben and I just got back from dinner and I'm completely knackered. What are you doing?" I took my boots off and lay down on the bed, settling my head on the comfortable pillow.

"Just working on some lesson plans for tomorrow, having a bit of scotch."

"What's Teddy doing?" I envisioned Harry working at his desk in our study, sitting in the dark, the only light in the room coming from the giant screen as he tapped away at his keyboard.

"Video games, I think. He finished his homework, so he earned it."

"Are you in the office?"

"Yeah."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Good," I whispered. "You owe me a bedtime story."

"Do I?" he asked, his voice low. I could easily visualize the corner of his mouth inching upwards in a half smile.

"You said you wanted me to call you before I went to bed and you'd have a bedtime story for me." My heart beat faster at the sound of his chuckle.

"I believe I said _maybe._ Do you have your pajamas on? Did you brush your teeth?"

"No and no."

"Well, it doesn't sound like you're ready then."

"Oh, I'm ready," I breathed, aware of a steady tingling between my legs.

"Since I'm not there, I guess I'll have to take your word for it," Harry said, still talking in that low, incredibly sexy voice.

"I'm very trustworthy," I said, licking my lips in anticipation.

Harry chuckled again, the sound of it from three thousand miles away making my blood sing in my veins. "All right, love. Close your eyes. Do you remember that time we were on the beach and you were wearing that bikini…"


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, look at you, Miss Thing!" Ben said, twirling his finger around until I obliged, spinning so he could get the full 360-degree view of my dress. "Very nice. That silhouette really compliments you. Clingy, but not too much."

"Thank you," I said, feeling my face turn pink. In deference to the general chill, I had on a high-necked sweater dress. It was a very deep purple and soft as a cloud. I hoped it would be warm enough with my tall boots. "Now you."

Ben grinned and spun around, holding open his black velvet jacket so I could see the scarlet satin brocade lining. Paired with dark jeans and a white shirt, he made quite a striking figure with his bright blue eyes and short blond hair. "Oh, very nice, Dr Frye," I said, brushing a bit of lint from his shoulder.

"Thank you, Dr Potter. Shall we?" He held out his arm and I took it, linking elbows with him and completely failing to hold back my giggles. After spending the entire day immersed in intense sessions and presentations, I was looking forward to the opportunity to cut loose a little bit. The conference mixer was billed as an opportunity to get to know your colleagues and do some networking, but everyone knew it was really an excuse to get off our faces.

"I'm glad we managed to book this hotel," Ben said as we approached the ballroom. "I won't have to worry too much about getting lost on the way to my room!"

"Don't get in too much trouble," I said, fishing my lanyard with my conference badge out of my purse. "I don't really have anything with me."

"You mean you can't just …" he asked, wiggling his nose again.

"No. There's a potion, but I didn't bring any."

Ben looked at me, aghast. "We're at a convention and you don't have anything for hangovers? Have I taught you nothing?"

I shrugged and grinned up at him. "I wasn't sure about that airplane security stuff. I guess you're just going to have to behave yourself."

"Ugh. What's the point?" He stopped as we neared the entrance, running his fingers through his hair. "Final check," he said and I brushed my fingers over the velvet of his jacket and adjusted his collar. He adjusted my neckline until it lay more to his liking and bared his teeth at me, prompting me to do the same. "Lipstick," he said and I rolled my eyes, swiping my finger against my front teeth and showing him again. "Clear. Let's go."

We showed our convention badges to the well-dressed young man with an earpiece in his ear and he waved us through. The ballroom was dark and loud music throbbed, making my internal organs vibrate with the heavy bass. Ben grinned at me, eyes lighting up with excitement. There was a small, empty dance floor and I nudged my companion, getting a nod in return.

"I need a couple of drinks first!" he said and I followed him to the bar where another very nicely dressed young man served us perfect cosmopolitans. Drinks in hand, we stood at the bar and surveyed our fellow conventioneers. I remembered several from the sessions I'd had earlier in the day and I was looking forward to some real, professional conversation.

First drinks finished, we turned back to the bartender and got fresh ones, taking them in hand to circulate around the room. I was glad that everyone had their names on their badges; I'd met an awful lot of people that day and while my memory is pretty good, it was just impossible to remember everyone's names. "Ah, the West Coast contingent!" said a rich, plummy voice behind us and we turned to see a tall man with a great head of silver hair. He put me in mind of poor old Rufus Scrimgeour and I looked at his badge.

"Hello, Dr Bradley!" I said as his enormous hand engulfed mine. "You led one of the sessions I was in today. I very much enjoyed your talk on detecting early signs of memory loss."

He adjusted his glasses and peered down at my badge. "Yes, Dr Potter! Please, call me Tony! I remember you had a lot of questions today. It's always wonderful to see the next generation coming in." He laughed and pointed to his hair. "I'll probably be in need of your services soon!" Turning to Ben, he shook his hand. "I don't believe you were in any of my sessions today."

"No, I'm on the opposite end of the spectrum. Ben Frye, pediatrics," Ben said, shaking his hand.

"Very good. You've got everyone covered between the two of you. Excellent!" He took a sip of his scotch, turning his attention back to me. "Is this your first time to Boston?"

"Yes. Since moving from London, I've pretty much been in school, so not a lot of time for travel, I'm afraid. I have been to New York and Los Angeles, though," I said, drinking more of my excellent cosmopolitan.

"London? I spent some time there in my youth at Cambridge. Your accent … it's a bit different than your typical Londoner," Dr Bradley said. I felt Ben's subtle nudge against my leg.

 _iOh, a bit of a flirt, are we?/i_ I thought, taking another drink to gather my thoughts. "Well spotted! I grew up in the country, out in Devon. Some people think we sound a bit like pirates out there." I laughed and shook my head, using my left hand to push my hair behind my ear. "My brother Ron still hasn't managed to shake all of it and when he gets together with my other brothers they sound like they're going to break out in a sea shanty!"

I saw his eyes fasten on my ridiculously diamond-encrusted wedding ring, but to his credit he didn't let any disappointment he may have felt show on his face. "That sounds like me when I get back home to Texas. Five minutes around my family and I sound like I belong on a cattle ranch!" We had a good laugh together and each drank more, covering the slightly awkward moment. "So, are you going back to San Francisco right away after the conference?"

"No, we're staying in town through the weekend to check out the sights and absorb some of the history," Ben said brightly. "Ginny has her heart set on a haunted Boston walking tour she saw in her guidebook and I'm on the hunt for some antiques." He shook his head and finished his drink. "We just don't have quite the same level of antiques in San Francisco!"

"Now that's unusual! Are you interested in the paranormal?" Dr Bradley asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, as I'm sure you know, everything in England is very old and everything in California isn't. I thought I'd take a look around and see what sorts of hauntings are on offer here on the East Coast." I smiled and drank more of my cosmopolitan. "I know most science-based people tend to dismiss the paranormal, but I've always had an interest in the unusual."

"Keeping an open mind is key in the medical profession."

I felt Ben nudge me again and I nodded agreement. i _If you only knew,/i_ I thought, acutely aware of my wand secreted away in my boot. "Well, it can't be all science all the time. Have you ever done one of those tours? Is there one you can recommend personally?"

"No, I haven't done any of the tours, but Boston supposedly has a lot of haunted spots. Boston Common was a public execution ground back during the Revolutionary War. Um, let's see … the graveyard at King's Chapel. Oh, even the Widener Library at Harvard is supposedly haunted," he said, surprisingly enthusiastic.

"The library?" Ben said with interest. "Do the books move around on their own?"

"No, nothing like that. The founder's son was lost on the Titanic and the story is that it's him that haunts it." Dr Bradley finished his drink and shook his head. "I've had some late nights there and walked through my share of cold spots, that's for sure."

"That sounds interesting. We might have to go check it out and see if we can find any cold spots ourselves!" I said, smiling up at Ben.

"Well, I should stop monopolizing your time and let you meet some of the others here," Dr Bradley said, raising his empty glass. "It was very good chatting with you. I hope you find a ghost or two while you're here!"

We shook hands again and watched as he headed off toward the bar. Ben nudged me in the side with his elbow. "Someone's attracting some attention!" he said, grinning widely.

"Please," I snorted, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "It's just because I'm one of the few women here."

"Well, you're definitely one of the cutest! Come on, let's get drunk!"

"I got flirted with tonight," I said into the phone that night. I reclined on the bed, still in my lovely toasty sweater dress.

"Oh? Why am I not surprised?" Harry said, his warm voice washing over me.

"Shouldn't you be at least a little surprised?"

Harry snorted. "Not in the least. You're at a medical conference. I'm sure ninety percent of the attendees are men. And I'm sure you were stunning tonight."

I grinned at his compliment, twirling a lock of hair around my finger. "I wore that sweater dress you like."

"Yeah? I do like that one."

"I don't understand why. It's practically Victorian with the high neck."

"The shape of it, though. Clings to all the right places," he said, his own smile evident in his voice. "So, if you wore that to the mixer thing, I'm not surprised."

"I had to use the blinding bling of my wedding ring to hold them off." I stretched my left hand out in front of me, looking at the ring in the low light. I'd thought that the heart-shaped engagement ring was over the top, but this one made it look positively demure.

"That's why I bought it."

"You're just trying to cock block me."

"Damn right. Hang on." His voice became muffled and I heard the words "homework" along with "due tomorrow" and surmised he was talking to Teddy. "Teddy says hello and wants to know what you've bought him."

"Tell him I said he's not going to get anything if he keeps bothering me. Although I did see an advertisement for a local shop that's supposed to have some marvelous puzzles. We'll probably go check that out." I sighed, suddenly feeling drained.

"Tired?" Harry asked softly.

"Yeah. It's been a long day."

"Drunk?"

"No. I mean, I had a few, but not enough to get drunk. Ben, on the other hand, is absolutely trollied."

"Oh no. What happened?"

"He met another young doctor and was trying to impress him the last I saw. I should probably go back down and check on him, but I don't want to put my boots back on."

"He's a grown man. He can take care of himself."

I snorted and shook my head. "You won't have to be the one to deal with him in the morning."

"Lucky me," Harry said and I knew he was remembering how awful Ben had been with his post-wedding hangover until someone had managed to get an anti-hangover potion down him.

"I suppose I'll just have to make sure that I get enough coffee in him in the morning to make him fit for human company. Harry? Are you there?" I said, sitting up on the bed just as Harry silently appeared in my hotel room, phone still next to his ear. "What in the—"

He bent down and kissed me very hard and stood back up, handing me a vial of light purple liquid before disappearing just as silently as he'd come. "Sorry I couldn't stay, love," he said, once again all the way across the country.

"Did you just drop in to give me a vial of—" I looked down at the glass vial in my hand, "Hangover Potion?" The pressure of his kiss was still on my lips and I pressed my fingers against them.

"Well, I i _did/i_ want to see you in that dress." His voice was pitched low and I heard the telly on in the background.

"And was it just how you imagined?" I said, my heart speeding up.

"Better," he whispered and I nearly died right then and there.

I carefully set Ben's morning time savior on the bedside table and curled up on my side. "So, I'm about to go to bed. Do you have a story for me tonight?"

The next morning, I knocked on Ben's door bright and early, grinning as I heard him banging around before he finally opened the door. "Ugh. How dare you look so chipper," he said, backing away from the door to let me in.

"That's no way to talk to someone who's about to be your very best friend," I said, surveying the room. His clothes from last night were strewn everywhere and I half-expected to see his friend from the night before, but no one else was in the room. i _I guess he had an early morning,/i too._ Ben sat on the bed, still in his pajamas.

"You're my best friend anyway. Oh, God, I feel like shit," he moaned, holding his head.

"How late were you out?"

"I don't know. One? Two?" He looked so miserable with his hair every which way and his undoubtedly throbbing head in his hands that I felt a surge of pity for him.

"Here, have this and you'll feel much better," I said, holding out the small vial to him. Ben gasped and grabbed it out of my hand, moving to uncork it. "Ah, ah! Glass of water first!" Taken on a completely empty stomach, the Hangover Potion could make one puke rather than feel better.

"How did you get this?" Ben asked over the sound of water filling a glass in the bathroom. "Is there some kind of magical pharmacy?"

"Harry brought it last night," I said, lips tingling at the memory of his kiss.

Ben stepped out of the bathroom, downing a full glass of water before uncorking the vial and tossing the liquid down his gullet, making a face at the taste. "Harry brought it? What did he do, Apparate into your room?"

"Yes. We were chatting on the phone and I said that I was sure you wouldn't be feeling very well this morning and he showed up with the potion, gave me a kiss and left." My face grew warm at his knowing smile and I self-consciously put my hair behind my ear and looked down at the carpet.

"So, looks like I wasn't the only person that had a visitor last night." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, looking like he was saying a silent prayer. "Bless you. I feel so much better already."

"Don't bless me, bless Harry." I took a seat on the comfortable chair and crossed my legs. "Now get dressed. I'm hungry."

"So, is that a thing that you can all do? Just Apparate across the country like that?" Ben asked once he was out of the shower.

I looked up from the guidebook I'd been reading through, remembering what Dr Bradley had said last night about Boston Common and the Widener Library. "Well, Harry can, but he's had a lot of practice Apparating. I don't think I could get myself all the way to San Francisco in one piece."

"How far can you go?" Ben asked, coming out of the bathroom fully-dressed and looking like his regular self once more.

"Hm, I don't actually know. I've never really had to stretch myself in that regard. I've always either done Floo or Portkey for really far distance stuff, but Harry hates those so much that he's really put the work into Apparating." I put my guidebook down and stretched. "Are you finally human again? Let's go eat!"

By the middle of the day, I felt like my brain had been thoroughly wrung out. There was so much new information to absorb and so many new people to meet that I felt like I was back in class, trying to struggle along the best I could.

"Girl, I am so glad tomorrow's the last day of this conference," Ben said as we sat down to the sumptuous, conference-provided lunch.

"Aren't you going to miss this, though?" I asked as I spread the cloth napkin in my lap. I took a slice of bread from the basket and spread a thick coat of butter on it. i _I'm out of town, I can eat what I want,/i_ I rationalized as I bit into the deliciousness.

"Ugh, it's going to be tough to go back to the hospital cafeteria after this, that's for sure," he agreed, buttering his own slice of bread. "You at least have Harry cooking for you. Must be nice."

"It is. If I was left to my own devices, I'd just eat a sandwich while standing at the sink reading a magazine."

"Well that sounds depressingly familiar." Ben winced and took a long drink of water. "Hey, let's go out on the town tonight."

"What did you have in mind? Don't count on Harry taking pity on you again and bringing another Hangover Potion."

Ben waved his hand dismissively. "Girl, I don't think I'll have another night like that for a while," he said, making me raise my eyebrows.

"What sort of shenanigans did you get up to last night?" I asked, grinning at Ben's cagey expression as he spooned up his clam chowder.

"Well, let's just say that the young man I met last night used to be a nationally-ranked gymnast," he said, a Cheshire cat smile spreading across his face as he primly patted his mouth with his napkin. "No, I want to take a crack at some of those antique shops. I picked up one of the local independent rags and it looks like there's a ton of them really close by."

"Oh, that sounds grand! What time is your last session done today?"

"I'm done at four-thirty. You?"

"Four-thirty as well. Meet in the lobby?"

"It's a date!"

That evening we walked down Charles Street, heading toward the river and what Ben had learned was the hotbed of antique shops in town. As we passed by Boston Common, I remembered what Dr Bradley had said the night before about it having been an execution ground and I shivered, wondering if any witches and wizards had been executed there.

"I hope I can find something for Harry at one of these places," I said to distract myself from thoughts of executions.

"I'm sure you'll be able to. What are you looking for?" Ben asked, his voice muffled by the scarf he had wound tightly around his nose and mouth. I was more used to this chill having spent several winters in the north of Scotland, but soft living in California had me unprepared for the Boston cold.

"I don't know. Something small and useful. He's not much for bric-a-brac, you know?"

"Hmm, well, we'll have to see what we see. What about books?"

"Oh, I wouldn't even know where to begin there." I thought about the books he had on the shelves at home and shrugged. "Harry's tastes there are … eclectic. Besides, we're in the wrong neighborhood for the sorts of books he's interested in. What about you? What are you looking for?"

"Not really anything in particular. I mostly like to look, but I am looking for something for my mom for Christmas."

"What does she like?" We stopped to wait for a crossing light and I stamped my feet, glad I had decided to wear my warmest boots.

"Unlike Harry, she i _loves/i_ bric-a-brac. Come on, let's stop in here." We crossed the street quickly, narrowly avoiding getting run down by a car making a right turn. The bell over the door tinkled and we stepped into a heavenly warmth, pausing for a moment in relief.

Loosening my scarf, I took a look around the shop. It was packed to the gills and there was almost too much to look at. Pictures in ornate gold frames hung everywhere and it seemed like every lamp either had fringe or some sort of decoration hanging off of it. Heavy, dark furniture crouched in any available space, their antique surfaces covered with doilies, teacups, dolls and anything else you could think of.

"Smell that? I love that smell!" Ben said, taking a deep breath through his nose. I followed suit and sneezed, the sound very loud in the quiet shop.

"Sorry," I whispered, mortified at my indiscretion.

"Amateur." Ben shook his head and headed to a glass-fronted display cabinet that looked like it was bursting at the seams with assorted tiny things.

I stuck my tongue out at his back and unwound my scarf, nodding to the wizend old gentleman on a stool by the cash register. I wandered around the shop, trying to take it all in, stopping at a case displaying vintage Zippo lighters. They looked interesting and certainly met the "small" qualification, but not exactly useful as we didn't really have any need for a Muggle lighter. I continued through the shop, looking at and rejecting candlesticks, porcelain figurines and vintage gas station signs.

I was sitting on an old velvet settee petting the shop's cat when Ben found me. "See anything?" he asked, sitting down on the other side of the cat and patting the orange tom on his head.

"No. How about you?"

"Eh, a couple things, but nothing that really struck my fancy. Onward!" He stood up and I held my hands out to him, giggling as he hauled me up. Ben found a beautiful cup and saucer at the next shop we visited, but I still hadn't found anything I liked for Harry, so we went to one more, scooting in about ten minutes before it closed.

"Hello, is there anything I can help you with?" the birdlike shopkeeper asked as I looked in the jewelry display cases.

"Hello! Yes, I'm looking for something for my husband," I said, noticing her glance at Ben as he looked through a stack of old magazines. "He's back in California while I'm here at a medical conference."

"All right. Do you have something in mind? Does your husband collect anything in particular?"

"Not really," I said, eyes roving over the items in the case. i _Unless you count creepy old books on things like blood magic,/i_ I thought. "He's not much for _things_ in general, but he likes quality stuff. Well-made. I wanted to get him something nice and practical."

"Well, let's see. Does he wear any jewelry? We have some nice men's rings over here." I followed her down to another section of the case, wrinkling my nose at the rings on display. They were far too gaudy and I just couldn't imagine Harry wearing something with an enormous black stone.

"Not really. Just his wedding ring and a watch," I said, remembering that long-ago Christmas when I'd given him his Hugo Magnusson watch.

"All right. Do you think he'd like an antique watch? I have some very nice Rolexes."

Rolex was a name I'd heard and I looked at them with interest, but I didn't see anything that really said i _Harry/i_ to me and I shook my head. "Sorry, none of these strikes me as something he'd like."

"We'll have to keep trying then. How about cufflinks?"

"Oh, that could be good. What've you got?" The shopkeeper reached into the display case and brought out a tray of cufflinks. One set caught my eye and I leaned in for a closer look. "Are these rubies or garnets?" I asked, picking one up. It was heavier than it looked and the gold was a nice mellow color that set off the red of the cabochon cut stone nicely.

"Those are ruby, what they call a cabochon cut. The gold is 24-karat." She nodded at me appreciatively. "You have a good eye."

I looked at the pair together. The rubies reminded me of the stones set into the Sword of Gryffindor and I thought Harry would appreciate that aspect of them. "I'll take them," I said, getting a look at the price. i _Well, I did say ridiculously expensive!/i_

"Good choice. Let me get them wrapped up for you." She put the tray back in the case and moved off to prepare my purchase.

"So, what did you find?" Ben asked, coming to stand next to me. "Look at this. Can you believe they used to market sugar as a diet food back in the day?" He showed me an advertisement in the magazine he held. Two women extolled the virtues of sugar, full of ready energy and only ten calories a teaspoon!

"Goodness. I found some nice ruby cufflinks for Harry that I think he'll really like."

"Ruby and gold? Gryffindor colors," he said with a knowing smile.

"Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor," I said with a smile. I glanced down at the display case once more. "Oh, what's this?"

Ben leaned down closer to the glass. "That? I dunno. Some sort of little box?"

"Look, it has the letter H on it! Oh, I want that, too!" I looked for the shopkeeper and waved to get her attention. "Miss, may I have a look at this little box?"

She obligingly bustled over and I had the feeling that I was about to make her day as she carefully took the small box out and set it on a pad of black velvet. "This is a very old piece that I found not too long ago at an estate sale in the Back Bay. It's a snuff box and dates to the Revolutionary War era."

My eyes followed the intricate black scrollwork engraved into the silver. It was a rectangular shape no longer than the width of the palm of my hand and only about two inches wide. A stylized _H_ decorated the top of the lid, nearly hidden in the ornate decoration. "I'll take that as well," I said, imagining Harry's pleased expression at unwrapping the box and then opening it to find the cufflinks inside.

"Very good. I'll be right back." She whisked the box away and I could almost see her skipping to the register.

"Decisive. I like it," Ben said, grinning at me over his magazine.

"I hope Harry likes them," I said, feeling just a little bit unsure. Harry did wear cufflinks when we had an event to go to and the box was a pretty, decorative thing that would look nice on his dresser.

"I think he will." He closed the magazine and looked at the cover. "I'm going to get this. These old ads are amazing."

I grinned and nudged him in the ribs. "I thought you just read that for the articles."

A few minutes later we were back out in the Boston cold, my purchases in a paper bag. "Now what?" I asked, feeling happy that I'd secured something for Harry. i _Now I need to check out that puzzle shop for Teddy and all of my obligations will be met!/i_

"Hey, that haunted bar I saw in your guidebook is supposed to be close by. I could use a warm-up, how about you?"

The thought of having a nice relaxing drink sounded perfect and I nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds wonderful. Let's go!" Despite the bar's reputation as haunted, we didn't see, hear or feel anything remotely ghostly as we had drinks and dinner, chatting about the conference.

"Did you run into your gymnast friend?" I asked over my martini.

"No, thank goodness. I'm fine to let that one be a one-time-only thing."

"Oh, why is that? Did you not have much to talk about?"

"Honey, we didn't do hardly any talking and that was just fine by me. No, he's just … I don't know." He looked at me over his own drink, blue eyes solemn. "I want something like what you and Harry have."

"You'll find that someone. He's out there somewhere, probably … I dunno … at a rave or something. Do they still have raves?"

"Thanks," Ben said with a snort. "How should I know if they still have raves? I've been in medical school and working my ass off as a resident. I don't even know if the sky is still blue."

"It is. I checked this morning."

"Well, at least you're good for something!" We clinked glasses and shared a laugh, some of my homesickness fading away.

Back at the hotel, we retired to our respective rooms, done in by the previous late night and the intense conference sessions that day. "Eight o'clock!" I said, wagging my finger at him. "Be dressed and ready!"

"Ugh! If I didn't love you to pieces I'd really hate your chipper-ass morning self," Ben said as he opened his door. "Good night!"

"Love you!" I called sweetly through the door, digging in my purse for my own room key. Inside, I set my shopping bag down on the chair and collapsed on my back on the bed, arms spread wide. I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed Harry.

"Hello, lover girl," he said when he answered, his voice sending a thrill through me.

"Lover girl? What's that about?"

"You called me lover boy the other night. It's only fair."

"That wasn't me, that was Ben."

"I don't believe I was talking to Ben that night. At least I hope it wasn't him that I told that bikini story to," Harry said, making me laugh.

"Don't you dare tell him that story. I'd never live it down."

"Speaking of Ben, how was he this morning?" I heard ice cubes being dropped into a glass and I glanced at the clock. It was only eight o'clock back home and it sounded like Harry was treating himself to a scotch.

"Miserable like we knew he would be. He was very grateful for your special delivery. How was your day?"

"Fine. Nothing too exciting. Teddy managed to get a week's detention in Potions," he said offhandedly as if he were hoping I wouldn't notice.

"What?" I sat up on the bed, all thoughts of relaxing done. "What happened?"

Harry sighed and I heard the ice clinking in the glass as he took a sip of whatever he was drinking. "Him and Duncan thought it would be funny to switch some ingredients while brewing a Sleeping Draught."

"Oh God. Was it really bad?"

"Well, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. They had the presence of mind to throw the cauldron outside when it started to smoke, but that doesn't change the fact that they were being a couple of smart arses in class." Harry sounded irritated and I was the tiniest bit glad that I wasn't caught in the middle of this particular event.

"Where is he now?"

"In his room with no computer or phone."

"Thinking that the world is completely unfair, I'm sure." I sighed and laid back down. "Hopefully he learns his lesson. I'm sure he's not the first one to almost blow up that classroom."

Harry made a grunt that could have been agreement or disagreement. "How was your day?"

"Busy. I had two super-intense sessions before lunch and then a really long one after. It was like I was back in classes."

"No drinking with doctors tonight? No flirting to tell me about?"

"None whatsoever. Me and Ben did a bit of shopping this evening. Do me a favor and don't look too close at next month's statement, all right?"

"Oh?" Harry said and I could nearly see his raised eyebrow. "What are you afraid I'll see?"

"I don't want you to spoil your gift. I told you I was going to get you something ridiculously expensive," I said. I already wanted to give it to him and I didn't know if I'd be able to make it to Christmas.

"Mm-hm. Will I see 'Victoria's Secret' on the statement?"

"Oh, so that's the sort of gift you wanted. Well, you could have saved me a whole lot of trouble if you'd said so!" His warm laughter made me smile and I wondered if I could talk him into Apparating back to my room. "No, no Victoria's Secret, I'm afraid. I think you'll still like it, though."

"I'm sure I will, love. You always know exactly what I want."

"Oh, I do, do I? Go on," I purred, a warmth starting up in my belly at his low voice.

"Hey, why do I get stuck telling the stories?"

"Because you're so good at it."

"I see. Well then." I heard him walking through the condo and a door opening. "All right?" he asked Teddy and I heard Teddy murmur in response. "I want to read it over when you're done, yeah?"

"Essay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Vivian is asking for three pages on the importance of following strict procedures in the lab along with the week's detention." More walking, another door closing and Harry let out a long sigh. I guessed he was lying on the bed and I found the vision very enticing. The way his tanned skin would look in the lights of the room, his dark hair against the dove gray pillowcase… "Now, do you remember when I bought my first car?"

"And you got that citation for speeding? Yes, I remember."

"You always remember only the bad things," Harry chided. "I remember something very good happening that night."

"Why don't you jog my memory …"

Later that night after whispered good byes, I seriously contemplated just falling asleep in my clothes, feeling that it was far too much of a bother to get into my pajamas. But I knew that I wouldn't sleep well in my jeans and jumper, so I heaved myself out of the comfortable bed and changed as quickly as I could. After brushing my teeth, my eyes fell on the bag from the antique shop and I picked it up.

I felt like I hadn't really gotten a good look at the things I'd picked out, so I took the two boxes out of the bag, opening the cufflinks first. The gold and rubies shone in the light of the room and I nodded in satisfaction, thinking that they would look fantastic on Harry the next time we needed to dress up for something. "Maybe we'll do something nice for New Year's," I said, putting them back into the box.

"And now you." I carefully unwrapped the tissue from the silver snuff box, turning it this way and that in the light and examining the hallmarks on the bottom. The scrollwork was exquisite and it seemed the more I looked at it, the more forms I saw. "I wonder who the original 'H' was," I murmured as I opened the box, expecting the musty smell of old tobacco.

I nearly fell over backwards as a silvery, glowing figure of a man spilled out of the box and looked around the room, seemingly disoriented. "Who are you?" I said, absolutely dumbfounded at the appearance of the ghost.

"Oh, thank God! You can see me!" he said, relief clear on his spectral face.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat down flat on my arse in awe of the ghost in front of me. "Where did you come from?"

"I'm sorry to have startled you. You opened that," he said, pointing to the silver snuff box I still held.

I set it down on the floor next to me and took a deep breath. "Do you mean to tell me that I just bought a haunted snuff box for my husband?"

"It seems so. Please, allow me to introduce myself," he said, visibly standing up straighter. Tired of sitting on my arse, I stood as well, acutely aware of my pajamas. He was only a few inches taller than me and had been quite young when he died. "My name is Richard Hammond and I am, or rather was, a lieutenant in His Majesty King George's army," he said, proudly clicking his heels together.

"Oh my goodness! You're a redcoat!" I exclaimed, completely forgetting my manners. I took in the formal frock coat, knee-length trousers and tall boots. A wide sash crossed his chest and his saber rode on his hip. The three-cornered hat on his head completed the look, which was marred by a silvery bloodstain on his chest. All in all, he made quite a dashing figure for all that he was in shades of gray and partially see-through.

"Well, there are those that called us by that particular pejorative, madam. I, however, prefer to be known as Lieutenant Hammond," he said, obviously annoyed at my reaction.

"Please accept my apologies, Lieutenant Hammond," I said, sketching out a rough curtsey. "I'm Ginny Potter. How do you do?" I fell back on manners that had been drilled into me since I was a little girl, stepping quickly over to the loo to grab the fluffy hotel bathrobe and slide it on over my pajamas.

"Apology accepted," he said, inclining his head. He looked around the hotel room, taking it all in. "I apologize for startling you with my appearance. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting you to be able to see me."

"You weren't? Why is that?" I asked, frowning. I knew that Muggles couldn't actually see ghosts, but Boston had a very large and thriving magical community. "There's quite a lot of witches and wizards here in Boston. I would imagine you'd have run into someone magical by now."

"You would think so," he sighed. "Luck has not been with me these long years."

He looked so sad and bereft standing there in his proud uniform and my heart just went out to him. "What happened?" I asked, settling down cross-legged on the bed. I had the feeling that I would be in for a long night.

"It would be wonderful if you would allow me to unburden myself to you. I've never been able to tell my whole story," he said, a look of hope in what I thought would be dark brown eyes if he were still living. He copied my position, crossing his legs and sort of floating in midair, looking pensive. "I suppose I should start at the beginning," he finally said. "I was born the 25th of January, 1750 to Edith and John Hammond in Yorkshire. I am … was … a Squib."

"Ah, I'd wondered," I said quietly. _Just enough magic to become a ghost,_ I thought.

"My parents had already had my brother, Christopher, to carry on the family line, so it was really no great loss when I turned out to be a disappointment. But, my father was not a cruel man and he wanted me to be able to make my way in the world, so when I became of age, he purchased a commission for me in the British Army and I joined the ranks of second and third sons."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, trying to imagine what my parents would have done if one of us had turned out to be a Squib.

"No need. I was quite happy to go into the army, especially as an officer cadet. It was regarded as one of the best ways to make one's way in the world, fighting for the glory of the British Empire. As it transpired, I came here to Boston with General Howe in 1775. Our aim was to put down the upstart Continentals and bring them back to heel." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"As an officer, leading my own platoon, I was allowed to commandeer a home in town for my own quarters. As you can imagine, this was less than popular with the colonists, but it was my due. I took the home of Joseph Chambers, a textile merchant." He paused again, his eyes fixed on a point above my head. "And there I met my Eliza."

"Eliza, that's a lovely name," I said softly when he had been quiet for several moments.

"She _was_ lovely. Dark, curling hair, beautiful skin and eyes as blue as a summer sky." He shook his head, looking like he was coming back to the here and now. "She was Joseph Chambers's daughter and the apple of his eye."

"And was Mr Chambers a king's man?"

"No, he was not. Mr Chambers was a staunch supporter of the Continentals, determined to throw off the yoke of British rule, something he reminded me of at every opportunity. But Eliza knew her own mind and went against her father and we fell in love."

"Oh," I sighed, my heart swelling with emotion. It was easy to see why Eliza had fallen for the dashing young officer. Even as a ghost, the young lieutenant was very striking with a long, straight nose, a strong mouth and large, liquid eyes. "What happened? How did you end up … here?"

"General Washington laid siege to the city. General Howe declined to attack the Continentals and we withdrew to Nova Scotia in March of 1776. Eliza and I had secretly plighted our troth and made plans to get her out of the city and to Canada, but General Howe would not allow her to accompany us." He heaved a long sigh. "I suspect Eliza's father had something to do with the general's refusal."

"And how did you end up, um, in the snuff box?" I asked, fully invested in Lieutenant Hammond's story.

"The snuff box was a gift from Eliza as a symbol of our promise to each other. I carried it with me to Nova Scotia and back to the colonies when General Howe took the fight back to the Continentals. I …" he said and stopped, looking troubled. His hand went to the silver stain spread across his chest. "I participated in the Battle of Long Island. The last memories I have of my life are the stifling heat of the day, the shouts of men and the smell of gunpowder. I felt a great pain, as if I had been soundly punched in the chest. I thought of my dear Eliza and then … I was like this."

"A ghost?" I asked gently. I wanted to reach out and touch him to reassure him, but I knew my hand would go right through him, so I kept my hands to myself. "What happened next?"

He looked troubled, eyes downcast. "I suppose you know that only the most foolish of us become ghosts. Those of us who cling too tightly to what we had or wish we had in life." I nodded, thinking of Nearly Headless Nick, roaming around Hogwarts Castle for eternity, too afraid of death to move on. "I clung desperately to my love, to my Eliza." He hung his head in shame. "I haunted her for the rest of her life."

My heart thudded in my chest, breaking for the both of them. "Was she a witch? Could she see you?"

"No. Eliza was a Muggle and my love never knew that the cold and chill she was plagued by were caused by me." He took a deep breath and looked back at me. "I had a love note from Eliza in the box and some kind soul returned her gift to her, along with the notification of my death. I still remember watching her weep over me."

"Oh, Richard, I'm so sorry," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. If I were to die and become a ghost, would I want to watch Harry as he cried out his sorrow over my passing? _Not a chance,_ I thought resolutely.

"I was weak. I know I should have moved on and left Eliza and let her get on with her life, but I couldn't. I stayed as she married and had children of her own, always a presence."

"Did she ever sense you? I've heard of some Muggles that have just a drop of magic that can."

"No. Just the cold. She complained often of never feeling warm enough, even at the height of the summers."

"What about when she passed? Did you think of moving on then?" I asked gently.

Richard shook his head, looking away from me again, clearly uncomfortable with the question. "I thought about it, but I couldn't. My snuff box had been passed down to her eldest daughter and I felt a strong connection to it. It was as if a bit of Eliza's spirit lingered in it and I was afraid to let it go, so I stayed and haunted the next generation." He frowned and waved his hand in dismissal. "Eventually my cold presence became a bit of a family joke. 'Granny Eliza's Ghost' they called me. They never knew how right they were."

"And now here you are," I said after a few moments of silence. "Are you going to haunt me, now?"

The ghost hovered in front of me, still sitting with his legs crossed, the tail of his fine frock coat floating gently behind him. He looked thoughtful as he considered my question. "Eliza's last descendent is gone and nothing of her lingers in this place. I am … ready to move on."

"Oh, all right then," I said brightly, frankly relieved that I wouldn't be dealing with poor Lieutenant Richard Hammond for the rest of my life. "Well, it's been wonderful chatting with you. Good luck in … whatever comes next for you."

"Ginny Potter, I need your help," he said urgently. "I need a witch's help to shed the last vestiges of this world and rejoin my Eliza."

 _Oh God bless it,_ I thought. _Another one?_ "My help? What can I do for you? Don't you just … move on?"

"If it were that easy, I would have done so immediately after her last descendent passed, but I am bound too tightly to Eliza's gift," he said, gesturing to the snuff box that still sat on the carpet.

"I'm not going to destroy it. It was expensive," I objected, picking up the beautiful box and looking at it closely. I cast Detect Magic, but nothing glowed. It was just a silver box. "Do you need a priest to perform an exorcism?"

"Nothing quite so prosaic," he said with a trace of a smile. "I'm bound to the box and cannot move very far from it. I need you to convey my box to the place we were last together."

"Where you were last together? In what, 1776? I don't know if you've noticed, but the city has changed a lot in the last two hundred or so years."

"I remember where we said good bye to each other. I'm sure I will know it again," he said, sounding absolutely confident in his abilities. "It was by the Charles River, a lovely promenade that we used to enjoy."

I looked at him skeptically, arms crossed. "Well, I suppose we could take a look around. But I don't know if the river has changed course. What if the spot where you said goodbye is underwater?"

Lieutenant looked a little troubled at that. "I suppose I hadn't thought of that," he said, rubbing his chin distractedly. "You are a witch, however and I'm sure you are capable of wondrous things."

"Flatterer," I snorted. "Okay, well. I suppose I have some work ahead of me to find out where you gave each other a good-bye kiss or whatever." I sat on the bed, thinking. "I have an all-day meeting tomorrow, and I'm only in town for a few more days after that. If I don't find the spot before I have to go home, you're coming to California with me."

Yawning, I looked at the time on the bedside clock. It was after one in the morning. "Now, I have a very early morning, so I need to go to bed and get some sleep, all right?"

Richard looked contrite and nodded. "Of course. I apologize for keeping you from your rest. I was just so overwhelmed that you could actually see and hear me." He glanced at the snuff box. "If you'll excuse me?" I nodded and watched as he dissolved into nothing, presumably going back into the snuff box. Acutely aware of my thin pajamas, I debated putting the thing in a drawer, but settled for putting it over by the telly. _If he wants to spy on me, I doubt a drawer will stop him._

Reaching for my phone, I tapped out a quick message to Harry. _Had an odd thing happen tonight. Don't worry, all is well. I will give you details tomorrow, but right now I need to sleep. Love you._

Harry's response arrived a moment later. _Great, now I won't be able to sleep. Is another magical creature pestering you?_

 _Something like that. Tomorrow!_

 _Fine. Love you too._

"Rough night?" Ben asked, eyeing me over his coffee cup. I sat hunched over my own breakfast, trying to fight through a fog of fatigue. Even after the ghostly Lieutenant Hammond had gone back to his snuff box for the night, it had been a very long time before I fell asleep.

"I was up much later than I intended," I said, draining my cup of tea and pouring another one.

"Oh? Did Harry stop by for another visit?" Ben pushed over the small pot of cream and continued to give me the eye as he slathered his toast with jam.

"No, nothing like that." I doctored my tea, refusing to look at him as my cheeks reddened. _Damn this pale complexion!_ "I did have a visitor of sorts."

Ben gasped and put down his toast, blue eyes round with shock. "Ginny! What? Who? Was it that doctor from the other night?"

"Calm down," I said, waving my hand. I pulled the snuff box out of my jeans pocket and set it down on the table. "It's haunted."

"What? The box you bought for Harry?" He stared at it as if trying to visualize what sort ghost would haunt a snuff box. "Um, who's in it?"

"A young British Army lieutenant called Richard Hammond."

"British Army? Like … wait … from the Revolutionary War?"

"Exactly," I said, grinning when Ben let out a loud squeak and covered his mouth, looking around the breakfast room.

"Really?" he whispered, leaning in close. He picked up the snuff box and turned it all around, examining it minutely before setting it back down again. "Oh no! I just moved his house all around! Do you think I upset him?"

"I doubt it. I don't think he's got any furniture in there to upset. He appeared last night and asked for my help."

"Your help? To do what? Haunt the descendent of a rival or something?" Ever since learning of the magical world that existed alongside the Muggle world, he'd taken a great many things in stride and even tended to assume magic was at play when things happened like the bus rolling up just as he got to the stop.

"No, he's ready to move on," I said, feeling much more alert as I related my conversation with the ghost. Ben was a very appreciative audience, gasping and putting his hand to his chest at the appropriate moments. "So, I somehow have to find where he and Eliza said good bye to each other over two hundred years ago."

"Does he know how much time has passed?" Ben asked skeptically.

"I think so. I told him that the city has changed a lot and that the spot might be underwater or something."

"And what did he say to that?"

I took another sip of tea. "He said that I'm capable of wonderous things."

"No pressure," he snorted, finishing his coffee. "We need to get a move on."

"And I need to call Harry and tell him about all of this. Meet you in the lobby, okay?" I put the snuff box back in my pocket and headed up to my room to finish getting ready for the last day of the conference. Checking the time on my watch, I decided Harry would be up and called.

"Ginny! What did you get me?" Teddy's youthful voice filled my ear when he answered Harry's phone.

"Good morning, Teddy! I'm not sure I should bring you anything back. I've heard you've done a bit of unsanctioned experimenting in Potions class," I said, his groan making me smile.

"I can't believe Harry told you about that! Listen, it was a valid experiment! The book said that the most potent ingredient was the flobberworm mucus and Duncan and I reasoned that extra mucus would make it extra powerful," he said, rallying to his own defense. "You're always telling me about 'the scientific method', so me and Duncan made our hypothesis and then tested it."

"And how did that work out for you?" I asked, grinning from ear-to-ear. _Yes! I'm rubbing off on him!_

"Not too well. The cauldron started to smoke and Duncan threw it outside where it sort of exploded."

"Sort of exploded? Teddy, something either explodes or it doesn't."

"Fine. It exploded. And broke a window." I raised my eyebrows, surprised that they got _only_ a week's detention and an essay out of the incident. "Anyway, I swear we were just trying to make a stronger potion. Here's Harry."

"Good morning," Harry murmured through a yawn. "Are you going to tell me about your 'odd thing' now?"

I unlocked my door and quickly gathered up my things for the conference. "Yes. I have a ghost asking me for help."

"What? A ghost? Not a poltergeist?" he said, sounding much more alert.

"Definitely not a poltergeist. A young British Army lieutenant called Richard Hammond. He's ready to move on and needs my help to do so." I grabbed my jacket and put it on, switching ears with the phone. "He fell in love with the daughter of a patriot and died before they could marry, so he haunted her and her descendants."

"Hm. So he's been a ghost for a very long time. _Can_ he move on?"

"I hope so, or else I'll be bringing him home with me."

"Oh God. That's the last thing we need. What does he want you to do? Do you need an old priest and a young priest?" he asked and I was sure he had a cheeky grin on his face.

"I already asked about an exorcism and he says no. He says that I need to take him to the place where he and Eliza, that's her name, said good bye when he left Boston with the army." I took one more look around the hotel room, patting the pocket that held the snuff box. I didn't feel right leaving it behind.

"Does he realize that that spot might no longer exist?"

"I told him as much, but he seems confident in my abilities."

Harry grunted, clearly lost in thought. "What was a wizard doing in the British Army?"

"He's a Squib. He said his father bought him a commission in the army."

"Ah, that makes sense. Hammond, you said? He say what his father's name was?"

I left the room with my bag on my shoulder, recalling the conversation from the night before. "John, I think? Why?"

"No particular reason. Seems like I might have heard the name somewhere. Are you all right? Do you need me to come?"

I stepped into the empty elevator. "I always need you to come," I said in a low voice, grinning at his snort. "No, I should be fine. I just need to find this spot and he'll go away or whatever it is that ghosts do."

"Okay, well, let me know if you need me to get over there."

"I will, love." The elevator opened on the lobby and I spied Ben waiting for me. "I have to go. Conference time."

"Call me tonight," Harry said, yawning again.

"I will. Hey, don't be too hard on Teddy, all right?"

"He got to you already? Damn he works fast."

"He's just curious. He was using the scientific method."

"Too curious for his own good. Get to your conference, I'll handle things over here, yeah?"

"Be nice. I'll call you tonight. Love you."

"Love you." I disconnected the call and joined Ben.

"Did you tell Harry about your ghost?" he asked, settling his conference badge around his neck.

"I did," I said, fishing my own out of my purse.

"And when is Harry showing up?"

"Harry is not showing up! I'm perfectly capable of handling this myself!"

Ben rolled his eyes and took my elbow. "Well, it's a good thing you're not by yourself then! Come on, sister, let's get this last day done with so we can have some fun. And repatriate or whatever your ghost."

 _Merlin save me from curious ghosts,_ I thought sourly as the transparent form of Lieutenant Richard Hammond floated next to me. I was trying to concentrate on the presentation on chronic illnesses and failing as the ghostly soldier distracted me with a constant stream of questions and observations.

I already had a wide berth around me as several people had moved to other seats, remarking on the chilliness of the air in that spot. "Must be right under a vent," one man said. "I don't know how you stand it." I just smiled wanly and shrugged.

"It's my English blood," I said, playing up the Devon in my accent.

"One of Eliza's great-grandchildren was a physician, you know," Richard said conversationally. "Used to keep little mints in my box and never left the house without it, so I got to go quite a few places around town. One time, he was called out to a house out in—"

"Lieutenant Hammond," I whispered before he could go on. "I'm very sorry, but I need to pay attention to this bit. Why don't you, um, relax and we'll chat after, all right?" The ghost favored me with a look down his nose and nodded, fading away into nothing, allowing me to finally concentrate on what was in front of me.

Not that I was able to concentrate on anything but the ghost, anyway. Ben and I had had a conversation over lunch about what he was calling our 'mission', looking up old maps of Boston on his phone. "I've been doing a bit of reading and there's been a lot of work done on the Charles River. This part here is almost entirely man-made," he said, zooming in on a picture of the shoreline by Beacon Hill. "Here's how it used to be." Another image appeared and the shoreline looked very different.

"This doesn't even look like the same place," I said as I toggled between the two images. In the older one, Boston looked like some sort of awkward blob of land thrust out into the middle of the harbor. The more recent image showed how much of the original waterway had been filled in to make more room. "Now I understand more why they call it the Back Bay. It actually used to _be_ the back of the bay." I gave him back his phone and sighed.

"Well, does it have to be the exact place? I mean, if we take him somewhere close it, do you think that would be enough?"

"I don't know. Harry's the one who'd know a bit more. Hallowed ground and all that."

"Maybe you should give him a call?" Ben suggested as he dipped a french fry in ketchup.

"I'm not going to call Harry about this. We'll figure it out. He's busy and can't just come running whenever I have a splinter."

Ben raised one eyebrow and ate another fry. "Sister, this is more than just a splinter."

"No. It'll be fine." _It had better be fine. I'm not too sanguine about bringing a ghost home with me. I suppose I could sell the snuff box back and get Harry something else,_ I thought as I took notes on common mistakes in managing chronic illness in the elderly. Even as I had the thought, I knew I wouldn't do such a thing. I really liked the box and I wanted Harry to have it. Plus, Harry wasn't the only one with a noble streak and I felt a sense of duty toward Lieutenant Hammond.

I could very easily put myself in his place. What if Harry really had died when he went into the Forbidden Forest to face Voldemort? Would I have been like Eliza and gotten on with my life or would I have stayed faithful to the memory of a dead man? With herculean effort, I pulled my thoughts away from doom and gloom, trying to focus for the hour or so left in the last session of the conference.

On the way out of the meeting room, Dr Bradley flagged me down. "So, Dr Potter. Will you be off on your ghost hunting now?" he asked with a friendly smile. After further conversations with him, I'd decided that he was actually just really friendly, especially when he pulled his phone out to show me pictures of his grandchildren.

I was acutely conscious of the snuff box in my pocket and I surreptitiously reached down a hand to touch it. "As it happens, yes! I do have a few ghost-related tasks in front of me over the next couple of days."

"Do you now? Are you going to participate in a seance? Try to communicate with someone beyond the veil?" he asked, making me think of what Harry had told me of his experience in the forest with the Resurrection Stone.

 _Don't need a seance or table-tapping to communicate with the ghost in my pocket,_ I thought as I quickly pasted on a smile. "No, nothing quite like that. We're going to visit some of Boston's most haunted places and have a bit of fun. We'll do a bit of American Revolution stuff, too. Paul Revere and all that."

 _"_ _Listen, my children, and you shall hearbr_

 _Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,br_

 _On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Fivebr_

 _Hardly a man is now alivebr_

 _Who remembers that famous day and year,"_ Dr Bradley recited and I clapped in admiration, smiling as he flushed in pleasure.

"Well done! Do they teach that in school here?"

"They probably do out here, but not so much in Texas. I have what my father considered an 'inappropriate weakness' for poetry."

"Well, fathers are always hardest on the ones that have the most potential," I said, squeezing his arm. "I've got to run and meet Ben, but it's been a real pleasure getting to know you. If you're ever in San Francisco, I'd love to get together for dinner."

"I definitely will let you know the next time I make it out that way. I'd love to meet your husband and godson." He gave me an appraising look. "You'll go far, Dr Potter. Don't be surprised if the East Coast comes knocking on your door one day."

"And if it does, it'll probably be you at the door!" I said, making the both of us laugh. We shook hands and parted ways. A moment later, Lieutenant Hammond appeared, floating along next to me as I walked down the hallway crowded with conference-goers.

"Faugh! Paul Revere. A maker of spoons and trifles," he said derisively, looking back toward Dr Bradley. The space immediately around me became suddenly empty due to the chill generated by his spectral presence.

"He's regarded as quite the hero in these parts. There's an epic poem about him." I spotted Ben in the crowd and headed toward him, the throngs of people parting before me.

"You look like Moses parting the Red Sea," Ben said as he kissed the air next to my cheek. "Is he …?"

"I'm right here," the ghost said, sounding offended.

"Leave off, you know Muggles can't see or hear you." I spoke more sharply than I intended; he'd been a trial all day and I was getting tired of his constant complaints.

"I know it very well. No need to remind me," he said before fading away.

"What just happened?" Ben asked, looking from me and the spot off to my left where the ghost had recently been hovering. He had proven to be more sensitive to the lieutenant than I thought he would be and I was beginning to suspect that he had a touch of wizard in him somewhere back in his tree.

"Lieutenant Hammond was here and then he got into a strop and disappeared," I said. "He was being shirty about Paul Revere."

"What? Who was talking about Paul Revere?" Ben asked as we shuffled slowly toward the convention center exit.

"I was chatting with Dr Bradley a bit before coming to find you. I mentioned we might do some American Revolution stuff and he recited a bit of a poem about Paul Revere. He said that I shouldn't be surprised if the East Coast comes knocking one day," I said, wishing the ghost had stayed out and lent his chilly presence to aid our exit.

"He'd have to pry you out of Vijay's cold, dead hands!" he said, referencing the director of the San Francisco wizarding hospital, SF Thaumaturgical. Now that I'd graduated from UCSF's medical program, he was no longer my advisor and liaison between the school and St Mungo's, but he kept in close contact, constantly trying to tempt me to come work for him.

"That's the truth!" I laughed, imagning Vijay's face if I were to tell him that I was leaving San Francisco to go work for some other hospital on the other side of the country.

It was already dark outside and freezing cold, so we walked double-time to the hotel, chatting about dinner plans. We nodded to the doorman at the hotel as we stepped into the warmth of the lobby and Ben pulled up short, making me nearly crash into him. I looked up and saw a young man approaching us with a shy smile on his face. _Oh, the gymnast!_ I thought, watching as Ben's face flooded with red.

"Gavin, hello," Ben said, recovering some of his natural sophistication. "Have you met my friend Ginny?" He grabbed my arm and thrust me in front of him as if I were a shield. "Ginny, this is Gavin Lewis."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, extending my hand. Gavin was shorter than Ben, but very powerfully built and had a gorgeous smile. His sandy-colored hair reminded me a little bit of Teddy and I experienced a wave of homesickness. "How have you enjoyed the conference?" I asked, nodding toward his badge. It said he was from Northwestern Medical and I had to think a moment before placing it in Chicago.

"It's been great. I always enjoy coming to these things and seeing old friends and meeting new people," he said, giving Ben a sidelong look. "I wanted to ask if you'd be up for a drink and maybe something to eat, if you're not too tired?"

"Oh! Um …" Ben stammered and I took that as my cue, stretching and yawning.

"You two go ahead. After three straight days, I'm knackered! I think I'm going to have a bath and order room service." I gave the comely Dr Lewis a brilliant smile. "This is the first one of these I've been to and I wasn't expecting the intensity!"

Ben gave me an appraising look before turning back to Gavin. "Okay, sure, that would be great. Let me get freshened up and I'll meet you back down here?"

"Sounds great," Gavin said, taking my hand again. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You, too!" Ben and I headed toward the elevators, trying to look like we weren't running. As soon as the doors closed, I turned to him and crossed my arms, giving him a silly grin. "So, that's the gymnast, huh? He's quite fit!"

"Woman, you don't know the half of it! Let me tell you, he hasn't lost _any_ of his flexibility." Ben looked in the mirrored wall of the elevator, running his fingers through his hair. "I was _not_ expecting this tonight! What am I going to wear?"

"I'll help you figure something out. I always had to dress Harry when we went out to clubs." The elevator doors opened on our floor and I followed him to his room.

"Sorry to leave you in the lurch," he said apologetically as he unlocked his door.

"I wasn't really lying when I said I was tired. I didn't sleep well last night and my brain is just about fried." I followed him into his room and looked in his closet, pulling out a button-down shirt with a light blue pinstripe. "I probably will have a soak and room service." I opened a drawer and found a v-neck jumper in a soft oatmeal color. "There you are."

"Too preppy?" he asked, looking at the combination doubtfully.

"He's from the Midwest. You'll blow his socks off." Ben quickly changed and disappeared into the loo before emerging with perfect hair and smelling freshly of Tom Ford for Men. I took a deep breath, lamenting the fact that I had yet to convince Harry to wear cologne regularly. "Don't stay out too late," I admonished, channeling Professor McGonagall.

"What time are we getting together tomorrow to put your ghost to rest?" he asked, pulling on his jacket.

"Let's have a bit of a lie-in. Nine-thirty?"

"Mmm, how about ten?" he said, patting his pockets.

"All right." We left his room and paused in the hallway. I couldn't help myself and I adjusted the lapels of his jacket. "Now remember, I don't have any more Hangover Potion, so don't get too crazy."

"Yes, Mom," Ben said, rolling his eyes. "Don't you dare knock on my door earlier than ten."

"Go on, you," I said, giving him a shove toward the elevators. "Have a good time." Giving me a little wave, Ben quickly disappeared around the corner and I headed to my own room.

 _Just me and my ghost,_ I thought as I set down my things and went to start a bath. I took the snuff box out of the pocket of my jeans and set it back down on the table with the telly, turning it on for noise. I half-listened to the local news as the weather man waved his arms and predicted snow starting tonight. "Living in California has made me soft," I remarked to no one in particular as I undressed, anticipating the steaming warmth of the tub.

A few minutes later I was up to my neck in lovely hot water and I closed my eyes, my thoughts turning to what I would get from room service. In the other room, my little mobile phone made a sound and I waved my wand, summoning it to me. _What are you doing?_ _Conference all done?_ said the messages from Harry. I looked at the time, realizing that he was just about done with the school day.

"What am I doing? I'll show you what I'm doing," I said, opening the camera. I had my hair up in a bun and I teased out a few loose tendrils to frame my face, trying out several pouts until I finally found one that I thought relayed the perfect look-at-me-in-the-bath-without-you look. I took care in framing my shot, making sure to get my face and enough of my water-covered cleavage so that Harry would have no doubt as to exactly what I was doing. I took the picture and sent it before I could back out, a quiver of excitement in my gut.

 _Oh my. Where are you?_

 _Where does it look like I am?_

 _It looks like you're in the bath._

 _Oh, full marks, Mr Potter! Shouldn't you be out running your arse off?_

 _No practice today. Instead I get to wait for Teddy to be finished with detention._

I raised an eyebrow at that. _Surely an unexpected consequence. Why not Apparate home and then come back for him?_

 _Because then he won't feel nearly as guilty._

 _So am I supposed to feel guilty that I'm here in a nice, hot bath and you're in a cold, empty classroom?_

 _Have you tried to blow up your Potions classroom?_

 _Not lately, no._ I bit my lower lip as I grinned. _I am trying to be naughty, though._

 _Are you? I hadn't noticed._

I snorted out loud, the sound echoing around the bathroom. "I'll give him something to notice," I said, turning on the camera again. This time, I made sure to get more than just my cleavage in the picture. _What do you notice now?_ I giggled madly as I watched the little dots do their charming little animation, indicating that Harry was formulating a response. I was focusing so intently on the little dots that I nearly dropped the phone in the water when it rang, showing me a picture of Harry smiling in front of the Golden Gate Bridge on a sunny day.

"I'm trying to decide if you're worth the trouble," he said when I answered.

"Why, what sort of trouble am I making for you?" I asked sweetly. My stomach trembled at the sound of his voice.

"You do know that Teddy occasionally gets a hold of my phone, don't you? And that I'm a school teacher?"

"Are you afraid that some innocent child will be scarred for life if they see one of my tit pics?"

"No, but Teddy might be."

"Or he'll show them to Duncan."

"That one," Harry snorted. "He's trouble on wheels."

"But they're inseparable," I said, remembering how Teddy had come home from his first day at St Ambrose's, chattering away about his new best friend.

"Well, they sure are right now."

"What does Vivian have them doing?"

"Cataloging her back storage room. She's apparently been meaning to do it for the last five years." Harry paused for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. "That's not why I called, though."

I felt a delightful shiver over my skin and I slid down a little further in the water, being careful to keep the phone dry. I wasn't sure what would be worse on it; getting it wet or trying to repair it with magic. "Why did you call then?"

"You obviously seemed lonely."

"Obviously? How can I be lonely? I have a ghost to keep me company."

"A ghost can't keep you warm, though."

"This bath can." I used my toes to run the hot water, sighing in happiness.

"What was that for?" Harry asked, latching on to my sigh.

"More hot water."

"So not my voice?" he said with a chuckle.

"Maybe that too."

"Good to know I'm making a contribution here and that I haven't been entirely replaced by a hot water valve."

"Well, not _entirely_ ," I allowed, feeling that shiver again. "Why did you call me again? I was relaxing in the bath, you know."

"Maybe I should go then and let you get on with your _relaxing._ "

"Are you going to abandon me, too?" I asked, putting a bit of pout into my voice, hoping that I sounded sexy rather than childish.

"Who's abandoned you?"

"Ben. He's out with a former gymnast."

"Bendy."

"So he says." A thought occurred to me and I grinned. "What about you?"

"What about me what? I'd say yoga keeps me pretty bendy, wouldn't you?"

"No, silly. Did you ever date any particularly flexible girls? Anyone that could twist themselves into an interesting shape?"

I heard Harry blow out a laugh and I grinned. I knew the answer, I knew everything about every girl he'd ever dated, but I still liked to needle him occasionally. "No. I did date this one girl, though. She was a tough nut to crack."

"Oh? Where did you meet her?"

"At a party. She was there with another bloke."

"She was? How rude."

"Well, it wasn't really her fault. I should have asked her to the party, but I didn't think she'd want to go with me."

"So, strictly speaking, you didn't meet her at the party, you already knew her." I thought back to that Ministry Christmas party. Harry had looked so dashing in his Auror Cadet robes that night.

"Well, yes. We'd been dancing around each other for a while, me and this girl."

"Sounds like she didn't know what she wanted. What was she wearing at this party?"

"Hmm, I'm not really too sure. A potato sack?" I could hear the tease in his voice loud and clear and I harrumphed in response, rising to his bait.

"A potato sack? I have it on good authority that she was wearing a marvelous gold sequined dress and cute gold high-heeled sandals." I'd loved that dress the minute I saw it in the shop window, taking extra shifts at St Mungo's until I could buy it.

"Hey, who's telling this story?"

"You are, but you're doing a very bad job of it."

"You think you can do better?" he asked, his voice low and challenging.

"Hmm, let's see." I sat up straighter in the bath, casting my memory back to that night. "It seems to me that you made the same mistake twice with this girl, not asking her out until the very last minute."

"Well, it wasn't the _very_ last minute …"

"So you admit that you'd made this mistake before with her?"

"Is this a story or an interrogation? Talk about a bad job …"

"Point taken," I said primly. "So you'd made your mistake and had to sit all evening, watching this girl with the bloke who had taken the initiative and asked her out, but you seemed to be doing all right yourself. You'd gotten yourself a cute little blonde who had her hands all over you."

"I'd hardly say they were all over me," Harry snorted in disagreement.

"Oh, they were _all_ over you," I said, remembering what's-her-name sitting at the banquet table and practically giving Harry a handjob underneath. "But even so, you just couldn't keep your eyes off of the girl in the gold dress."

"I thought I was being subtle."

"You weren't." I remembered Harry's eyes constantly roaming over to me all that evening. Even from a distance I could almost see the jealousy burning in them as he watched me canoodling with Andy Burnham. _Poor Andy,_ I thought, _I'll have to drop him a note and see how he's doing these days. Maybe we'll do drinks over Christmas._

"The girl in the gold dress wasn't exactly being subtle, either. Cozying up to that bloke, whispering in his ear."

"It could have been you," I whispered, feeling my heart beat faster. I sank back down in the water, closing my eyes at the delicious warmth.

"I wish it had been. When I saw her on the dance floor…" He trailed off and I held my breath, waiting for more.

"What about the dance floor?" I prompted after a few moments of silence.

"Dizzying, electrifying, amazing," Harry whispered and I felt a heat rise in my cheeks that had nothing to do with the hot water surrounding me. "I wanted her, that girl in the gold dress."

My mouth was completely dry and I had to swallow a few times before I could form words again. "I believe you had her. On a gym mat, no less."

Harry let out a low chuckle and I grinned to hear it. "Not my finest hour, perhaps."

"I disagree."

"Do you? What's your opinion, then?"

"Dizzying, electrifying, amazing," I said, parroting his words back to him. "Those knickers _were_ brand new, though."

"I replaced them. With the full line. All of the colors."

"Did the girl in the gold dress thank you?"

"Many times." I was about to say something in response when I heard him talking to someone. "All done then?" he asked and I presumed he was talking to Teddy. "Teddy's done with his detention for the day."

The switch in conversational gears momentarily disoriented me and I felt a throbbing ache between my legs. "Time to go home, then?"

"Yeah," Harry said apologetically. "I'll call you again later tonight, all right? Will you still be up?"

"Ready and waiting," I whispered, summoning my very best sultry voice.

"Well, um, all right, then. I'll talk to you tonight."

I made a splashing sound with the water to remind him that I was naked in the bath. "I'll be waiting," I said, still in sultry vixen mode. Harry snorted and disconnected the call. "Oh, girl you've got it _so_ bad," I muttered, leaning my head back against the bath tub wall.

I luxuriated in the tub for a few more minutes and got out, wrinkling my nose at my pruny fingers. Conscious of my visitor, I put the fluffy robe on over my pajamas and went out into the bedroom, picking up the room service menu from the desk.

"Was that your husband you were speaking with?" Lieutenant Hammond said and I nearly jumped in surprise.

I turned to see him floating behind me, looking rather disconsolate. "Yes, that was my husband, Harry."

"You sound like you have a very loving relationship."

"I like to think we do all right. We have disagreements, but we don't let that sour the overall relationship." I felt a surge of sympathy for him as he floated here, looking lost and lonely. "Is that how it was with you and Eliza?"

"Our circumstances were much different and we … didn't have very many opportunities for affection," he said after a long silence. "I had hoped that once we were married that we would have a similar marriage to that of my parents."

"How were they?" I asked, thinking of my own mother and father and how well they worked together raising all of us through the stresses of two wizarding wars.

"They were each other's helpmeets, filling in whatever the other lacked. It was a happy family, a good one to grow up in."

 _And a sad one to leave._ I knew that most Squibs separated from their wizarding families, unable to fully exist in the magical world without any magical ability. I thought of Filch and his correspondence courses with his abiding bitterness for the thoughtless, magical students he had to clean up after. "Well, we'll see if we can get you to your spot tomorrow, all right?"

"Yes. Thank you, Ginny." He paused for a moment, looking like he was deciding whether he should say somethig or not. "I have not had anyone to talk to in a very long time," he finally said. "It has been good to be able to talk to you." He continued to float in place and I had a feeling that he expected something of me.

Sighing internally, I looked at the menu again, deciding on the wild mushroom pizza with a glass of white wine. I placed my order over the phone and hung up, turning to the aimlessly drifting ghost. "Well, I'm sure that as you haunted people into the modern age, you picked up a few things. Is there anything on the telly that you liked to watch in particular?" I asked, glad to see Lieutenant Hammond perk up a little.

"Oh, well, I don't want to impose, but there was one thing I found very delightful on the … telly. There is one where there are policemen and barristers working together, but also separately," he said and I immediately knew what show he was talking about.

"Well you're in luck because that one's usually on somewhere," I said, picking up the remote and flipping through the channels until I found it. Lieutenant Hammond looked delighted as he settled down to float above the bed, legs and arms crossed as he focused on the telly.

 _Law & Order with pizza and a ghost. This happens to everyone, right?_ I thought as I settled down next to him.


	4. Chapter 4

After an entire day of tromping around cold, slushy Boston looking for the place where a British Army lieutenant bid his lady love adieu, I was freezing and less than my usual, sunny self. My boots were crusted with salt and it had been at least an hour since I'd been able to feel my toes. The ghost of Lieutenant Hammond floated next to me, craning his neck all around.

"See, when I was alive, all of this was vast mudflats," he said, flinging his arm to the side and startling a cat off of a dustbin. Ben turned to watch the cat scoot down the alley and looked at me, raising his eyebrows. I just shook my head as Lieutenant Hammond continued to grouse and complain about all of the changes that had occurred in the city since he'd died.

He'd been like this all day and it was starting to get on my nerves. The day had started out well with breakfast in the cozy hotel breakfast room where I got to tease Ben about his evening with Gavin. "Do I detect a rosy glow?" I asked, grinning as I poured myself another cup of tea.

Ben theatrically patted his cheeks and gave me a wide grin, his eyes sparkling. "You might," he conceded with an imperious nod. "Gavin has quite the five o'clock shadow." He set down his cup in the saucer and leaned forward. "Ginny, I haven't kissed anyone like that in ages! It was like … like …" He turned his eyes heavenward and sighed.

"Like what?" I asked, unable to hide my own grin.

"Like being a teenager. You know, where you just want to kiss and kiss forever?" Ben sighed and sipped more of his coffee, a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Oh, I know. I may be an old, married lady, but Harry and I still have our moments," I said, thinking back to when Harry had called me last night as I was going to sleep. The memory of his voice and the things he'd said gave me the shivers in the warm sunlight coming in through the breakfast room window. "So, are you moving to Chicago?"

"Well, I'm not packing as soon as I get home, if that's what you're asking. I'm not some U-Haul lesbian with three cats."

"A what?" I'd thought I'd heard it all from Ben and learned all of the lingo, but every now and then he could surprise me.

"A U-Haul lesbian. See, it's like this: gay women always go to the moving in together step faster than gay men. Ergo, U-Haul lesbian," he explained, slathering strawberry jam on his toast.

"Okay, but the U-Haul part?"

"You've seen them around town," he said, waving his hand airily as he bit into his toast. "The trucks and trailers with weird facts about America on the sides?"

"Oh, so you hire the lorry and move your own things! You-haul," I said, proud that I'd made the connection.

"Exactly. I'm not doing that." He took on a calculating look. "Now, you did say that Harry Apparated himself all the way here, right? I wonder how far he could go with another person?"

"You cannot possibly be thinking of using my husband as your personal booty-call taxi service," I said in mock outrage, proud that I'd managed to work 'booty call' into the conversation.

That cozy breakfast room was long gone, however and the sun was almost down as we trudged down the alleyway. "Are you sure this is the same area where that millpond was?" I asked Ben, my breath showing white. Lieutenant Hammond insisted that they parted company underneath an elm tree by the old millpond before it had been filled in. The city fathers of Boston had been very busy since the good lieutenant's death, filling in most of the bay with bits of hills in an effort to gain more land for expansion and we were left to guess where that spot might exist now.

Ben pulled out his map. It was looking quite worn from repeated folding and unfolding and I peered over his shoulder, tracing our day's path. We'd started out at Boston Common, hoping that maybe Lieutenant Hammond and Eliza would have spent enough time there together that it would trigger something in him, but we didn't have any luck.

"Why would we have spent time in a pasture?" was all he had to say about it. From there we'd wandered around, trying to follow the old contours of the land the best we could.

Ben frowned and looked around at the desolate alley, shrugging. "I guess maybe? It's hard to tell where the old shoreline was."

I looked at the ghost who was continuing his tirade about man and progress. "How about here?" I asked, cutting him off in the middle of a rant about how horses were still perfectly valid modes of transportation and why did everyone have to be in such a hurry all the time? The lieutenant paused midsentence and floated, turning around slowly in place.

"What's he doing?" Ben whispered anxiously.

I shrugged, watching as the ghost seemed to go a little bit fuzzy at the edges. Before we set out for the day, I'd asked him what would happen when he did find the right spot and he looked introspective. "I suppose I don't know exactly. I've never seen a ghost move on before."

"I haven't either," I said as I wound my scarf securely around my neck. "Have you met very many other ghosts?"

"I have met a few others over time. One of Eliza's descendants got caught up in the mystic craze and would hold gatherings where she tried to contact the world of the spirits." He gave a faint smile. "She would perform all sorts of tricks; knocking underneath the table, assistants moving the draperies. Little did she know that she was actually quite effective."

"Did you socialize much?" I thought of the Hogwarts ghosts and the Headless Hunt and precision flying exhibitions they would put on.

"No, I'm afraid I tended to focus too much on the living rather than my fellow ghosts," he said in a tone that didn't invite further conversation. He seemed pensive and I left him to his thoughts and I slid the snuff box into my pocket.

Now I watched as he slowly stopped spinning and gradually came back into focus. "No. This is not the spot where I bid my Eliza farewell."

"Not the right place," I sighed to Ben, shivering as the persistent breeze made its way underneath my scarf, chilling the back of my neck. "Where to now?" I tried not to sound as exasperated as I was, but I was cold and tired and he saw right through me.

"All right, Miss Ginny. Look, why don't we take a break for a bit and warm up?"

I spread my arms, encompassing the dustbins and assorted trash in the alley. "Where? Where is there to warm up?"

Ben pulled me into a hug and I burrowed into his warmth, feeling a little bit of my crankiness fade. "Come on, there's a place over here," he said, linking my arm through his as we headed toward the coffee shop he'd spotted. Before too long I was curled up in an armchair sipping on a piping hot café mocha, sighing in relief as the warmth of the drink spread throughout my body. Lieutenant Hammond drifted around the shop, disappearing through a wall to the back storage area.

"What's he doing now?" Ben asked, taking a loud slurp of his peppermint mocha. I smiled at the dab of whipped cream on the tip of his nose.

"Just kind of floating around," I said, watching as a student pulled her coat closer around her when the ghostly lieutenant skimmed right behind her. A little girl standing in line with her mother tugged urgently on her mother's hand, staring at him open-mouthed. I got Ben's attention and tilted my head towards the little girl. "She can see him," I said quietly.

"What? Does that mean she's a witch?" he said, leaning in close and lowering his voice to a whisper. "What about her mom?"

"She doesn't seem to have noticed, so I'd guess she's a Muggle." The mother was indeed oblivious, giving her daughter an irritated look when she continued to tug on her hand, pointing to what looked to her like a random spot in the air.

"So what do you, um, people, do when a magical child shows up in a non-magical family?" Ben asked, continuing to watch the pair.

"Well in the UK, usually someone from Hogwarts will make contact with the family before the letter comes so it's not a complete surprise when an owl shows up on the doorstep. Harry knows more about how it works here, but apparently each region has an office that's responsible for identifying magical children and acclimating their families," I said. Lieutenant Hammond had finally realized the little girl could see him and he floated in front of her, looking her over critically. "I imagine someone will make contact with her family in the next year or so."

"Is that how it happened for Harry?"

"No. He was totally surprised and didn't know a single thing about the wizarding world." The mother got her coffee and handed the girl a snowman-shaped cookie, leading her out of the shop. The girl hung back a moment, waving to the ghost of the lieutenant.

"Well, he must have been extra surprised when he found out he was supposed to save it!"

"You don't know the half of it!" We sat quietly, letting the blessed warmth sink into our bones as Lieutenant Hammond drifted closer, looking a bit morose. "Is something bothering you?" I asked quietly, trying not to look like I was talking to myself.

"Memories," he sighed. "This area is so different, but still the memories linger. This place used to be a very fine tavern."

I waited, but he didn't volunteer any more information, so I cleared my throat. "Did you and Eliza come here together?" I asked, hoping that maybe somewhere in this coffee shop would be significant enough for him to be able to move on.

"No, taverns in my day weren't really suited to women, not like the … clubs young people frequent these days. When I was off duty, this tavern was one of my favorite places to enjoy stimulating conversation with the finest minds of the day," he said, drifting aimlessly.

"And there isn't anything about this place that you feel maybe drawn to?" I asked, hoping that there was some memory strong enough to draw him on to his next big adventure.

"Alas, no. I need to be in a place that I shared with Eliza."

I finished the rest of my delicious mocha and let out a long exhale, nudging Ben. "Looks like this isn't the place. Out we go."

Ben sighed and consulted his map once more. "Let's see … we haven't gone up over here yet. Let's head over by the North Station, all right?" I peered at the map, trying to visualize the much older map of Boston I'd studied before setting out. It was all a jumble in my head anyway, but I agreed, hoping we'd get lucky and find the right spot to send the ghostly lieutenant on his way.

We meandered in the general direction of the North T Station, taking our time lest we accidentally pass the spot too quickly for the lieutenant to react and do whatever he needed to do. We were almost to the corner of Merrimac and Staniford when Lieutenant Hammond stopped and floated in place, a queer expression on his face. I grabbed Ben's arm and he turned to me with a quizzical frown.

"Hold on," I whispered, watching the ghost closely. He was frowning and floating only a few inches above the pavement, spinning in place like a very slow top. It might have been my imagination, but it looked like the tails of his frock coat were being blown by a wind I couldn't feel.

"Is this the spot?" Ben asked, looking around. There wasn't much to the area, just a multi-story car park and a few old buildings. Hardly the spot one would imagine a couple would share a romantic farewell.

"Maybe?" I whispered, eyes trained on the ghost. He'd stopped turning and had his eyes closed, looking like he was concentrating on sounds only he could hear. Like in the alleyway earlier, he'd started to go a bit blurry at the edges and look more transparent, as if his substance was thinning. I concentrated on my hummingbird tattoo, trying to detect any uptick in the regular low-level buzzing sensation I felt when Lieutenant Hammond was around, but I didn't.

After several breathless moments, Lieutenant Hammond opened his eyes, letting out what I imagined would have been a mournful sigh if he'd still been able to breathe. "This is the place," he finally said.

"But you're still here," I said, unable to keep the stark dismay out of my voice.

"He is?" Ben said.

"I am. I don't understand. This is where we said goodbye. The elm tree was there," he said, motioning to where a traffic sign now stood. "We walked up the promenade and stopped underneath the elm tree. I had to tell her that she was not going to be able to join me in Halifax as we'd planned. We promised each other that we'd wait until the Colonies had been brought back under British rule and we could marry. She gave me that silver box you carry."

He looked so desolate that I felt my irritation with him melt away, replaced by an almost overwhelming sadness. Thoughts of Eliza bidding her lover goodbye reminded me far too much of when Harry would be called away from me on Auror business and I was constantly in fear of never seeing him again, always wondering if this would be the time someone got the upper hand on him and separated us forever. I gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold and cleared my suddenly tight throat.

"Well?" Ben tugged anxiously on my arm and I sighed.

"He says this is where they said goodbye, but I guess it's not enough? Or he can't move on after all?" I shook my head and turned to face Ben. "I guess I'm stuck with him."

Ben hugged me tightly, patting me on the back. "Listen, it's cold and dark. Let's head back towards civilization and we'll get some food and drink into you. Things always look better from the bottom of a wineglass."

I looked back toward the ghost, but he'd gone. _Back to his snuffbox, I presume._ I squared my shoulders and linked my arm with Ben's. "That sounds like an excellent idea," I said, following his lead to the T station. _And then when we're done, I'll call Harry and cry on his shoulder._

"So we spent all day and most of the evening wandering around Boston, trying to find the right place for Lieutenant Hammond," I said to Harry much later. True to his word, Ben had fed and watered me thoroughly and my spirits felt much restored. "And it was so cold today, Harry."

"Oh, poor thing. You do realize that you used to go for walks around the half-frozen lake at Hogwarts, right? Snowball fights, wandering around Hogsmeade in the middle of winter …" Harry said, his warm voice melting away the day's frustrations as I lay curled up on the hotel's bed.

"Yes, but California has gone and made me soft, hasn't it? I bet it was sunny all day there." In my mind's eye, I conjured up memories of epic snowball fights of Gryffindor girls against boys. Once, I'd managed to knock Harry's glasses clean off and I'd been both mortified and triumphant. Triumphantly mortified?

"I'd say it's made us both soft, yeah?" Harry chuckled softly, warming me even further. "So? Were you successful?"

"Well, yes and no. We managed to stumble across the spot where they said goodbye to each other, but he didn't cross over or move on or whatever," I said, glancing at the silver snuff box on the table by the telly. I had an episode of _Law & Order_ on the telly just in case he decided to make an appearance.

"So you've still got him, then?" Harry asked, sounding a bit concerned. "What happened?"

I could tell he had his Auror hat on, so I took a deep breath and told him what had happened in as much detail as I could recall. "And he was such a pill today. Nothing but complaining about how everything was different and how people behaved so much more properly in his day."

"Love," Harry chided, "the poor thing has to be on edge, doesn't he? He's been a ghost for over two hundred years; he's probably scared shitless."

"I know," I grumbled, trying to ignore the spurt of shame that rose up in me. "But you should have heard him. And everywhere we went if there was a dog the damn thing would start barking its fool head off at him. Oh, a little girl saw him when we stopped for coffee."

"Yeah? How old was she?"

"Mmmm … five or six maybe? I pointed her out to Ben and he asked me how magical children of Muggles are brought into the system. I know what they do in the UK, but what about here?"

I heard the sound of ice clinking in a glass as Harry took a sip of something and I wondered what he was drinking. "Her parents didn't see the ghost?"

"It was just her mum and no. I suppose her dad could be a wizard, though."

"Well, in the case of Muggleborns, there's a regional outreach team. Western states, southwest, Midwest, southeast and northeast," Harry said, his voice taking on a teacherly tone. "Magical child's name goes on the rolls and around six or seven outreach starts. General health and wellness check, explain what's going on to the parents, work with the child to control any wild magic and then when the time comes, talk about magical schooling and access to the local wizarding center."

"That all sounds very organized and American."

"Doesn't it?"

"What if the parents reject the wizarding world?" I asked, thinking of the Dursleys and how they would have reacted if a fearsomely organized witch showed up on their doorstep, telling them that their sweet Duddykins was magical.

"I understand that they step up outreach efforts until the parents come around."

"And if they don't?"

Harry sighed and I heard more ice cubes clinking. "They had a real problem with Obscurials here in the early 20th century and they don't want a repeat of that, so in extreme cases, the outreach department will take custody of the child and foster them."

A chill trickled down my spine. "And the parents just agree to this?"

"In some cases."

"And in others?"

"They're Obliviated and made to believe their child is attending boarding school on scholarship," he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh. That seems rather extreme," I said, trying to imagine myself in the place of the Muggle parents. Being made to forget about my child was about the most horrifying thing I could think of, but I'd learned about Obscurials during my time at St Mungo's and I knew that avoiding one was worth almost any price.

"Rather. So, we need to figure out what to do about your predicament," Harry said, changing the subject. "I'm not looking forward to sharing my home with a mopey ghost."

"You and me both," I said, absently rubbing the tattoo on my upper arm. It wasn't buzzing like it did when the lieutenant was around, so I felt pretty secure that he wasn't listening in on our conversation. "He said that he needed to be where he and Eliza said goodbye and we did that. I don't know what else it could be."

"He said where they said goodbye? Not where they last saw each other?"

I heard the clinking of ice again. "What are you drinking?"

"Scotch."

"Lagavulin?"

"Nah, just Balvenie."

I snorted. "Where's mine?"

"Come home and I'll pour whatever you want," Harry said in a throaty purr, bringing out an embarrassingly girlish giggle in me.

I cleared my throat in a very Umbridge-like fashion, glad to hear Harry's chuckle. "Okay, so anyway, he said where they bid each other farewell."

"Mm-hm. And you're sure you had the right spot?"

"He said so. He went all fuzzy and got a bit more transparent. Have you ever seen a ghost, um, cross over?" I asked, thinking that he must have during his Auror career.

"No, not really. I did have a Banshee dissipate on me once, but that was a lucky shot. Made a huge mess."

"When was that?"

"You don't remember? I came to your place and you asked why I had all the gel in my hair."

"Is that what that was? Disgusting. I can't believe you let me touch it!" I said, remembering that night. Harry had been particularly randy that night. Guess I knew why, now. "But a regular ghost? You've never seen one move on?"

"No. I think they can, though. They need to let go of whatever they're holding on to here and just let it happen."

"What about this business of needing to be where they said goodbye though?"

"Dunno. I mean, events, momentous ones, can create kind of a ripple or eddy of energy in a place, yeah? You know how you'll be walking along and then you just feel a shiver out of nowhere?" I nodded, thinking of that one place down the street from our condo. _What happened there?_ I wondered. _I'll have to do some research._

"Like the feeling of a goose walking across your grave. So I guess there's some sort of echo of energy? Something Lieutenant Hammond needs to kind of push him over the edge?"

"Very likely. You said he haunted all of her descendants?"

"Yeah. Said they called him 'granny's ghost' even though none of them could see or hear him. Just the cold spot."

"All right. So, let's think on that. He loved her so much that he stayed and haunted her and her entire line until it died out, right?"

"Right," I said slowly, wondering where he was going with this line of reasoning.

"So, maybe where and when he and Eliza said goodbye verbally wasn't really where or when."

I sat up in the bed, legs crossed. "Oh! Oh, wait!" I said, waving my free hand around in excitement. "Because he was haunting Eliza's descendants, they were still sort of together!"

"Makes sense, no?" he said, sounding only a little bit smug.

"So then we need to find out where the last descendent died and take him there. Oh, this should be a snap! What's that thing you're always telling me to use?"

"Google?"

"Yes! I just do that and find out where the death occurred and we're golden." I let out a relieved sigh, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Harry, I could kiss you."

"So what's stopping you?"

"About three thousand miles!"

"And I thought you were a witch."

"I'll be home in a couple of days. Surely even you can hold out that long," I said, trying out my sexy voice.

"Oh, I knew I had something to tell you. Remember how I said that your ghost's father's name sounded familiar?"

"Yes," I said cautiously. He sounded like he had something up his sleeve.

"We're related."

"You are not! How do you know?" I said, both amazed and not.

"Remember that genealogy thing I went to? That witch that sent the family tree? I took another look at it and there he was. John Edward Hammond," he said, pride in his voice.

"Well I'll be. Was Richard on there?"

"No. You know a lot of times Squibs aren't in the family trees," he said gently.

"Dead branches, as it were. Well, if you're related, then I probably am somewhere too." I lay back on the bed and stretched my legs out, giving a huge yawn. "I need to sleep, love. It was a very long day."

"Are you too sleepy for a bedtime story?" Harry had pitched his voice low in that way he does when he's about to say very naughty things and I felt a flutter of anticipation.

"Mmm, not _too_ sleepy, I reckon." I turned onto my side and curled up into a little ball, the phone warm against my ear.

"Good. I've been thinking of this all day." His voice was like warm honey, giving me the sweetest ache to be with him. "Do you remember that little book with all of the questions?"

My memory went back to that summer evening and I felt my pulse quicken. That night had really been the first time Harry and I had gotten close. "Yes," I whispered.

"I found it this afternoon. Hermione must have left it behind and it got mixed in with your things. I was looking through it and there're a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"No fair. That's not a story and I don't have the questions to ask you in turn."

"What if I answer the same ones I ask? Would that be fair?"

"I suppose so," I said, wondering what questions he would ask me.

"All right then. Let's see … here we go. What is your most treasured memory?" He sounded genuinely curious and not at all like he was asking just to wind me up.

A thousand memories flashed through my brain. My first time on a broom, riding the Hogwarts Express and laughing with friends, becoming a fully-qualified Healer, my first shift in the trauma ward … Harry standing in the dawn light, our hands wrapped together with a white ribbon. _Marry me,_ whispered in my ear, the Great Hall bursting with flowers and people, but the only one that mattered was standing at the other end, waiting for me to walk to him.

"My most treasured memory," I said slowly, gathering my thoughts. I knew that I was going to be the one telling the story tonight and I hoped Harry was alone. "I suppose that it would be the day we got married … or maybe the wedding night …"


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up the next morning to the sight of Lieutenant Hammond floating next to the bed. He sat tailor fashion, legs and arms crossed, the tail of his fine frock coat hanging down toward the floor. Seeing him there watching me put me a little out of sorts. _How long has he been floating there,_ I wondered, squinting at the bedside clock, eight-thirty staring me in the face.

"Ah, you are awake," he said, moving to a standing position, continuing to float a few inches above the floor.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Hammond," I said, yawning and scrubbing my hands over my face in an attempt to massage myself more awake. "Have you been up very long?" I asked, trying to ascertain how long he'd been watching me sleep.

"I'm not sure. I have a little trouble reckoning time. Not too long, I think," he said apologetically.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to take care of some business." I got out of bed, glad that he moved aside so I didn't have to walk through him. I was still nice and warm from bed and I didn't relish the idea of walking through his icy chill. He followed me to the loo and I closed the door firmly behind me. Morning business addressed, I opened the door to find him still floating there.

"Ginny, I need to apologize to you," he said, looking somewhat abashed.

"Apologize? For what?" I shimmied past him in the doorway, making my way back to the bed and pulling the still-warm covers over my lap.

"I fear I was not the best company yesterday." He floated aimlessly around the room, bouncing between the closet, the bed and the telly like a gobstone.

My lingering irritation with him dissipated completely as I watched him carom around the room, clearly unsettled. "Well, it's understandable, isn't it? You're under a lot of stress."

"Be that as it may," he said, stopping his wandering and drawing himself up straight. "I failed to comport myself as an officer in His Royal Highness King George the Third's army should." He executed a bow and stood up straight once more. "Please accept my sincere apologies for my behavior, Ginny Potter."

I sat up straight and nodded. "Apology accepted, Lieutenant Hammond." He appeared to relax at my acceptance and floated in place rather than picking up his wandering again. "Listen, I talked to Harry last night and I think I know what we ought to do next."

He perked up and floated closer. "You do? Are you certain?"

"Well, I'm not _certain_ , but I told Harry what happened and he thinks that you need to be where Eliza's last descendant died."

"Anne," he sighed quietly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I can see your husband's reasoning."

"Yes. His theory is that you were not truly separated from Eliza until there was nothing of her left in this world," I said, watching as Lieutenant Hammond cradled his chin in his hand and nodded. "So, we ought to be able to find out where … Anne passed away, take you there and then there you go." I clapped my hands together, the sound loud in the quiet room. "Do you remember? Did she pass in hospital?"

Rather than bouncing around, the lieutenant slowly spun in place, deep in thought. "No, she passed in her own bed."

"Do you remember how long ago?" I asked gently. The shopkeeper had said she'd picked up the snuff box at an estate sale, but she didn't say how long ago it had been.

"I …" he began, continuing to rotate slowly. I waited patiently, hoping he could give me some useful information. "I remember a feeling, a sort of … tearing or pulling and I heard what sounded like Eliza's voice, calling to me." He stopped turning, looking unsettled. "I tried to answer that call, but I wasn't able to."

"No? What was it like? What happened?" I asked, very intrigued. _Maybe I am stuck with him after all._

"I'm not certain I can put it into words. I felt like there was something blocking me or pushing me away and whatever it was, I just couldn't break through." He shook his head, eyes fixed on the silver snuffbox that sat on the table next to the telly. "Perhaps by being too unwilling to leave Eliza when I died on the battlefield I've doomed myself to remain here forever."

 _Oh dear, I hope not!_ "I'm sure we'll figure it out," I said brightly, getting out of bed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready. While I'm in the shower, I want you to think of when Anne passed away and where it was. Then we'll figure out how to get in there and get you on your way, all right?"

Lieutenant Hammond nodded distractedly, thoughts clearly turned inward as I headed back into the loo. As the hot water beat down on me, I thought about our conversation. With his apology, Lieutenant Hammond had shown that he wasn't always quite so prickly. _Maybe being stuck with him wouldn't be quite so awful._

By the time I was out of the shower, Lieutenant Hammond was nowhere to be found. "Guess he's gone wherever he goes to think things over," I said as I got dressed for the day. I turned on the telly, looking for a weather report and was informed that the high today would be a balmy 35 degrees, American. _So that's 2 degrees in units that make sense,_ I thought. _Now I wish I'd bought those flannel-lined jeans I saw in that catalog._

Armored for an expected day of traipsing around in the cold, I slid the snuff box into my pocket and left my room, knocking on Ben's door. "Good morning, sleepyhead! Are you awake?" I called in my sweetest voice. A moment later, the door opened, Ben's tall body blocking my view inside.

"I can't believe you're already dressed and ready to go," he said, looking me up and down. He had one of the hotel's fluffy robes on and his blond hair stood up in messy spikes.

"It's almost nine-thirty. What are you doing still in bed?" I asked, trying to see around him. He gave me a sheepish grin and opened the door a little wider, allowing me to see the young doctor from Chicago sitting at the small table, also in a hotel robe. I grinned up at Ben and raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm going down to the breakfast room. Maybe I'll see you there?"

"I'll be down in a bit," Ben said, matching my grin as he closed the door.

I thought about calling Harry as I waited for my cheese omelette, but decided that he would be in the middle of getting Teddy and himself out of house for the day. I was still spreading strawberry jam on my toast when Ben waltzed up to the table and plopped down into the other chair, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Refusing to take his bait, I finished spreading jam, making sure to get a nice, even coat before setting it down on the edge of my plate and turning my attention to my tea, getting it the perfect shade of light brown. Ben huffed and flounced off to the breakfast buffet when I took my first sip.

"Now are you ready?" he asked, sitting down with a plate piled high with bacon, eggs, hashbrowns and three different sorts of breakfast pastries.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you have something you wanted to share?" I asked, giving him my cheekiest smile.

"You're the worst." Ben turned his attention to his coffee, dumping in far too much sugar for my taste. "I like my coffee light brown and sweet, like my men," he'd told me once.

"I seem to remember you saying that you were content to let Dr Gavin be a one-time thing. That's three times by my count. Didn't he want to come to breakfast?" I was a little disappointed at his non-appearance; I'd been looking forward to finding out more about him.

"He's going home today and yes, I did say that. Why do you have to throw my words in my face like that?"

"If I didn't, who would?" I stuck my tongue out at him and started on my omelette.

"Well, anyway, he called me last night saying that he was flying out in the morning and that he wanted to see me before he left. How could I refuse?" he said, shrugging one shoulder as he bit into a cheese danish. A bit of color rose into his cheeks.

"I think it's very sweet. Are you going to make a trip out to Chicago to see him?" I was very intrigued by this turn of events. As long as I'd known Ben, he'd always dated around, never seeing the same person for more than a few weeks. _Maybe he's going to settle down?_

Ben waved his hand and drank nearly half of his coffee. "Anyway, what's on the agenda for today," he said, turning the conversation away from his love life.

"Well, I chatted with Harry last night—"

"How are my future husband and my future godson?"

"They're doing fine. Oh, remind me to tell you about Teddy almost blowing up his classroom! Anyway, I told Harry what happened yesterday and he gave me another idea," I said, leaning forward. I wasn't really worried about being overheard here, but the Statute of Secrecy was never far from my mind.

Ben frowned at my comment about Teddy nearly blowing up his classroom, but he let it go by, focusing on the task at hand. "What idea did he give you?"

"So, he thinks that since there was still something of Eliza in her descendants, that Lieutenant Hammond and Eliza weren't truly separated until her last descendant died. So, we need to take him to where she died," I said, a pulse of excitement in my gut.

"She?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Hammond said her name was Anne."

"All right. Last name?"

"No."

"Does he know when she died? He seems kind of iffy on time-related things."

"I asked him, but he kind of went off on a tangent. I hope he's thinking about it right now and trying to remember in case we need to look something up."

"And I'm guessing he didn't say where?"

"Now that he did say. He said she died in her own bed."

"And this bed was located …?"

"Um, the Back Bay somewhere?" I said, wincing at his skeptical expression. "The shopkeeper I bought the box from said she'd bought it at an estate sale in the Back Bay, but she didn't say how long ago."

Ben sat back against his chair and drank more of his coffee, a contemplative frown on his face. I finished my omelette while he thought. "Okay, so. We have a first name and the Back Bay. We could go back to that antique shop and ask the lady you bought the box from about the estate sale she got it from. That should point us in the right direction."

"I was so focused on Lieutenant Hammond coming up with the information that I completely forgot about the shopkeeper!" I felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of me and I sighed in relief. "Well, the good lieutenant isn't around and I don't know when he'll make an appearance, so let's do that first, all right?"

"Sounds like a plan." Ben took a huge bite of his cheese danish and closed his eyes in delight, following up with a sip of coffee. "Now, what is this about Teddy almost blowing up his classroom? Was it that Duncan? I bet it was Duncan."

The shopkeeper in the antique shop I'd bought the cufflinks and snuff box from peered owlishly through her glasses at the box. She was turning it over in her hands, making me envision poor Lieutenant Hammond and his ghostly furniture getting all tossed around, even though I knew nothing of the sort was happening.

"My husband's name is Harry and since this has the letter H on it, I was wondering if maybe you had a little bit more information so I could give him some history on it," I said. "Maybe who the former owner was?"

She set the little box back down on a pad of black velvet and took her half-moon glasses off, letting them dangle from the chain around her neck. "I remember I bought it at an estate sale, but not much more. Unless the sale is from the estate of a notable person, the sellers often don't bother to say whose estate it is," she said apologetically.

"Well, do you remember how long ago you purchased it? Or do you have a record of where the sale was held?" On the way to the shop, Ben had said that often estate sales were held in the deceased person's home and the hope was that we'd just be handed the address right away.

"Oh, let's see … maybe about five years ago?" She looked up at me and smiled. "Let me check some papers in my office and see what I can turn up. I'll be right back."

"Thank you so much. Sorry to be a bother," I said as Ben elbowed me.

"Your British is showing," he whispered as the shopkeeper trundled away.

"Sorry."

"You're still doing it."

"Well excuse me. I don't know how to be rude and demanding, all right?" I elbowed him in the side hard enough to make him grunt.

"Has our ghostly lieutenant put in an appearance?" he asked, rubbing his ribs.

"No. I'm worried he's having a bit of a sulk."

"Aw, did you two have a fight?" he said, batting his eyelashes at me.

"Shove off, Frye," I growled with narrowed eyes. I was completely unable to keep a straight face and we both dissolved into giggles, practically falling over ourselves until the shopkeeper came back with a sheet of paper.

She looked at us over her half-moon glasses, putting me in mind of Harry and his "teacher look" and a surge of homesickness nearly overwhelmed me. Clearing her throat, she held out the paper to me. "That's all of the information I have on it. It's not much, but it tells a bit of a story."

I looked it over, noting the date of the sale was a bit more than five years ago and read the description of the box. _Sterling silver snuffbox with intricate scrollwork pattern incorporating the letter "H",_ it said. _Revolutionary War-era, English, London, John Lambe or a journeyman under him._ "Oh, it's English! That's interesting," I said, genuinely surprised. _I wonder if it was a family piece that Eliza gave him?_ "I would have thought it was done by that Revere fellow."

The shopkeeper looked a little affronted at my casual treatment of the Revolutionary War hero, but she smiled in spite of my insult and shook her head. "No, I haven't had the privilege of handling any of Mr Revere's work in my shop. Some day …" she said wistfully, eyes roaming around the accumulation of stuff.

I scanned the rest of the sheet, disappointed to see only the estate sale company's name and address and passed it to Ben. "Thank you so much for the information. Do you remember where the sale was? Was it at an auction house?"

"No, it was in the estate holder's home. The home was for sale, too. It's always sad when someone passes and doesn't leave any heirs, but I can't feel too bad because it's my bread and butter!"

"Do you remember where the house was? I recall you saying it was in the Back Bay?" I asked, trying to imagine making my living by selling the treasured objects of dead people. _I guess it's not any worse than fixing broken bones or sewing people up._

The shopkeeper frowned in thought, squinting her eyes nearly shut as she rummaged around in her memory. "Hmm … I want to say it was on Marlborough between Gloucester and Hereford. Yes, it's not too far from here. I remember walking over in the spring."

"Oh, very good! I've heard that there are just some marvelous homes there." I widened my eyes and gave her a conspiratorial grin. "I confess to being a bit of a lookie-loo; maybe there will be an open house or two?"

The shopkeeper grinned back at me. "Maybe!"

I held up the sheet of paper. "May I keep this?"

"Oh, of course. I made you a fresh copy. Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked hopefully.

"No, thank you. You've been absolutely grand getting me this information. I'm sure my husband will love it."

"All right, then. If you want another gift for someone else, you know where to come!"

"I certainly do! Thanks again!" Ben and I left the shop, the tinkle of the bell above the door announcing our exit.

"What was that all about in there?" Ben asked, his breath white in what felt like searing cold after the warmth of the shop.

"What was what?"

"In there. The googly eyes. Were you coming on to her? Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Goodness, no! Just something I picked up from Harry over the years. When you want something from someone, it pays to be very charming," I said, pulling out my little Boston map and looking for Marlborough.

"Well! I can only hope that he'll want something from me one day so he'll turn on the charm!" Ben exclaimed, blue eyes bright with mischief.

"Please," I snorted, "if Harry were to ever put his charm to work on you, you'd be a puddle on the floor." I found Marlborough and followed it with my eyes, running into Gloucester. I pointed it out to Ben. "Look, we'll go up here and then I guess walk up the street to Hereford and hope that our good lieutenant twigs on something."

Ben looked at the map and nodded, stomping his feet in the cold. "Maybe he'll point like a hunting dog?"

I chuckled at the vision of the right and proper Lieutenant Hammond standing straight in his regal British Army uniform, pointing at a house and shook my head. Putting away the map, I linked my arm through Ben's. "Come on. Let's get this done and spend the rest of the day shopping!"

"Anything?" Ben asked as we walked down Marlborough. Lieutenant Hammond floated next to me, an introspective look on his face.

"Are we close?" I asked the ghost, wishing I could poke him to get his attention.

"I did not see much of the outside world, so I'm afraid I can't say based on appearances …" He trailed off as was his habit, staring at a house.

I gave Ben an irritated look and turned back to the ghost. "Is that it?" I asked after several moments of silence from him.

"I feel an … energy. There is something that pulls at me here." His voice was distant and I could see his eyes fixed on an upper story window.

"He says that there's something pulling at him. I think we may have found it," I said to Ben, excitement mounting in my gut.

"So now what?" He pulled his wool beanie tighter over his head, covering his ears.

I looked at the house and then up and down the street. It was the middle of a workday for most people and the street was empty except for us. The windows of the house were all covered and it definitely didn't look like anyone was home, but one could never be a hundred percent sure. "Well, I guess we knock on the door and see if anyone's home."

"What's our story?"

"Do we need one?"

Ben sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes. You can't just go knocking on doors and simply saying, 'Oh, we were just checking to see if you're home.' It looks suspicious!"

"Oh. Well, what's our story?"

"I was asking you!" He shook his head at me, clearly disappointed with my lack of duplicity. "All right, we don't really look like missionary types, so let's say we're survey takers."

"What sort of survey?"

"It's not important. Can you magic up a clipboard or something?" he said, waving his hands around as he always did when referencing magic.

I obliged, conjuring up a simple clipboard with some blank papers clipped to it. "Well, what if we're asked what the survey is for?"

"Fine. It's um … grocery shopping. Where do they do their shopping."

"Okay. Should we make a list of questions?"

"Listen, if someone's home, they'll probably say no, so we're fine." I nodded and slipped the clipboard underneath my arm, shaking out my hands. "What are you doing?"

"Getting into character."

"You _are_ a character. Come on." He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the steps, pushing the doorbell. We listened to the chime inside and I felt my heart beating faster. Lieutenant Hammond drifted up next to me, looking at the door with interest.

We stood there for several minutes in the cold, but no one ever came to the door. "I guess no one's home," I said, stomping my feet to get some feeling back.

"I can go check for you, if you'd like," Lieutenant Hammond volunteered as he passed through the door.

"Well, I'm stupid," I remarked to Ben as he disappeared. "We have a ghost. We could have sent him to scout." Ben smacked his hand against his forehead and groaned just as the lieutenant reappeared.

"There is no one inside," he proclaimed, floating next to me once more.

"He says it's deserted." I turned to Lieutenant Hammond. "Did you feel anything inside? Any urging from the other side?"

"I felt something, but it was faint. I'm not … sure if this is the right place." He looked distressed and I frowned.

"Is this not the right house?"

"No, this is where Anne died. I recognized the interior, but something seems like it's missing."

"What's going on?" Ben asked anxiously, tugging on his beanie once more.

"He says it's the right place, but not the right place," I sighed, crossing my arms. I resisted the urge to pull out my phone and call Harry. _I can figure this out._ "Look, let's go inside and see what happens."

"How are we getting in?" Ben asked as we walked back to the street.

I took him by the arm and wiggled my nose like that witch in that old television show. "You leave that to me."

Two minutes later, we were inside of the empty house. We'd gone around to the deserted alleyway behind the house and I'd managed to Apparate the both of us into the house with only the tiniest of sounds. "See, I told you you're about the same size as Harry," I whispered when we arrived in the lounge.

"But why do I look fatter than he does in the mirror?" Ben patted his imaginary gut and looked around the lounge. "Wow, this is pretty swanky," he said, letting out a low whistle. I took in the well-appointed room. I didn't know much about antiques beyond the old, battered things Mum and Dad had at home, but this place looked like the term "early American" could be liberally applied.

"How's our friend?" Ben waved his hand in the direction he thought Lieutenant Hammond was floating.

"Still here," I said, pointing to where the lieutenant was actually floating, examining a painting of a pastoral scene. "Lieutenant Hammond, are we in the right place?" I asked gently, distracting him from the painting.

He frowned and nodded. "Yes, this is the house I remember. I feel … strange."

"Strange how?"

"Thinner, somehow." I looked at him in the dim light of the room, trying to determine if he looked more see-through or if he was getting fuzzy at the edges like he'd done in that alleyway before, but it was a bit too dark to tell for sure.

I clapped my hands together briskly. "All right. Well, you said she passed in her own bed. Can you take us there?" Lieutenant Hammond nodded and drifted toward the staircase. I grabbed Ben's hand and followed, pulling him along with me. I didn't really know what was going to happen next and I was feeling a little apprehensive.

Ben sniffed out my apprehension and put his arm around my shoulders, his presence calming. "You going to be okay?"

"Fine. I don't think I even need to do anything. Just get him there, I suppose." The ghost led us to a large, airy room at the top of the stairs. The curtains here were open, letting in lots of daylight. An enormous bed dominated the center of the room. It reminded me of the beds in the Gryffindor dorms; all it was missing were the red and gold hangings.

Lieutenant Hammond came to a stop next to the bed, a somber expression on his face as he looked down at it. "Here is where Eliza's last descendent breathed her last," he said, sounding as mournful as I'd ever heard him. "Eliza's light left this world when Anne died."

I examined his form, looking for any signs that he might be going on to his next great adventure. In the brighter light I could see that he was definitely fuzzy at the edges and he looked a good deal more translucent. "I'm sorry, Richard," I said sympathetically, moving closer and letting go of Ben's hand. I was about a foot away from him when I felt it; a queer sort of buzzing. It felt a bit like my tattoo when I was around very strong magic, but this seemed like it was coming from inside of me and I gasped.

Lieutenant Hammond turned to me with a quizzical look and I was astounded to see that he'd actually grown more opaque than translucent, the red of his fine frock coat darkening as the buzzing increased. His eyes opened wide and I saw that they had turned from a murky, grayish color to a warm dark brown and spots of color appeared on his cheeks. "What … what is happening?" he asked, sounding just a touch frightened.

The buzzing sensation had changed to more of a throbbing feeling and I tried to move away from him, but I couldn't. My feet wouldn't obey me and were rooted to the spot. "Ben," I called in a quavering voice that was all I could muster.

"What? What's happening? Are you hurt?" He closed the distance between us and his eyes went wide. "Ginny! I can see him!"

"You what?" I asked at the same time as Lieutenant Hammond said, "He can see me?" The throbbing increased, and I began to feel as if something was being drawn from me as the ghost continued to manifest in front of me. My heart was beating hard in my chest, thumping against my ribs as my breath came short. I was on the edge of panic as whatever was happening seemed to reach a crescendo and then … nothing.

I stumbled back a step, running into Ben's solid chest, panting and sweating. As I looked at him, Lieutenant Hammond faded before me, returning to his previous, ghostly self. "He disappeared," Ben said softly. "Are you all right? What happened just now?"

"I don't know. I felt a kind of buzzing and then a throbbing and then it was like something was being sucked out of me …" I said, old memories coming to me. Memories of being a little girl with a very unusual book … I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs. "Lieutenant Hammond, do you know what happened?"

"I think … I think I was using your magic to move on, but …" he trailed off and I focused on not yelling at him in fear and frustration.

"Using my magic? How?"

"I don't know. You were acting as a conduit to the other side and your magic … your magic was opening the way." Harry had described the veiled arch in the Department of Mysteries to me once and I shuddered as a vision of it appeared in my mind's eye. "This isn't the right place, though. Eliza's essence is here, but it's too dilute. I could feel her pull, but only faintly."

I sighed and scrubbed my face with my hands as Ben patted my shoulder. "So … um?" he asked.

"He says there isn't enough of Eliza's essence here. That it was too dilute to pull him through to the other side."

"And what was that about your magic? How come I could see him?"

"He said that I was acting as a kind of conduit?" I shook my head. "I'm not quite sure what we ought to do next. Maybe I do need to call Harry."

He checked his watch. It was barely after noon. Harry would be in the middle of his morning classes and not really in a spot to chat. "Look, why don't we find someplace to relax, have a bite to eat and something to drink, all right?"

The idea of sitting down someplace perfectly mundane to do perfectly mundane things sounded absolutely amazing. "Oh, can it be someplace warm?" I asked. The current owner of the house was apparently quite ecologically-minded because the heat hadn't ticked on at all since we'd been inside.

"Of course. We'll go to that tavern we spotted the other day when we were looking for that elm tree. I think I saw a chimney."

I had a vision of myself sitting in a cozy chair with my feet propped up on the hearth next to a raging fire and I sighed. "That sounds wonderful. I hope this place isn't haunted!"


	6. Chapter 6

_Have some questions for you. When can I call?_

 _Is everything all right? Lunchtime should be fine._

 _Everything's fine. What about Juanita? Won't she miss you?_

 _She has a new romance novel. She won't even notice I'm not there._

 _All right. Love you._

 _Love you._

I sighed and put the phone down on the table and picked up my cider, taking a long drink. "Feel better?" Ben asked, sipping his own drink.

I looked around the cozy tavern, soaking up the heat from the fire at my back and nodded happily. "So much better." I couldn't see Lieutenant Hammond anywhere, so I guessed that he'd gone back to wherever he went to think things over. I myself was still a bit shaken up by the events at that house.

Ben beamed at me and picked up the menu, ordering us a selection of finger foods. We spent the time until the food came chatting about the conference and I tried to find out more about Dr Gavin, but he was uncharacteristically closemouthed about him. I took that to mean that he really liked him and didn't want to jinx anything by talking about it. For someone who knew about the wizarding world, he could still be awfully superstitious sometimes.

The barmaid brought a truly impressive platter of finger food that took up nearly the whole table. It was arrayed with potato skins, wings, fried mozzarella sticks and crispy potstickers with a delicious ponzu sauce. "Oh my goodness," I said, leaning forward and picking up a mozzarella stick. It was very hot and I nearly dropped it back to the platter. I dipped it in the marinara sauce and bit down, savoring the crunchy, chewy cheesiness.

"So, what happened back there at the house?" Ben asked around a mouthful of loaded potato skin.

"I'm not entirely sure," I said, double-dipping my mozzarella. "That's one of the things I want to ask Harry about. He's seen a lot of weird stuff and I want to pick his brain."

"You said he was using your magic, but I didn't see your wand out. Was this a wandless thing?" he asked, waving his fingers at me.

"No, not exactly." I took a deep breath and picked up a potsticker, looking at it while I gathered my thoughts. "He was drawing on my magic in some way."

Ben looked around, making sure that no one looked too interested in our conversation and leaned in closer to me. "But how? That's what I don't get. Whenever you or Harry or Teddy do magic, you have to actually _do_ it, you know?"

"I know. You remember that nastiness with that Ignatius fellow, right? Do you remember what happened to me?" I felt a crawling sensation come over me, centered right between my shoulder blades.

Ben nodded, eyes big in his face. "When you were possessed, right?" He paused a moment and then gasped. "Was he trying to possess you?"

"No, I don't think so, but I had an experience at school, at Hogwarts, when I was little that left me more … open to these sorts of things." I ate the potsticker, chewing slowly as I thought about how to explain things to Ben.

"What happened?"

"You remember the little portrait? How it was a horrible thing made by a very bad person? Well, I ended up with something similar." My mouth had gone dry and I took another drink of cider.

"Whaaaaaat?" Ben asked, frozen in the act of dipping his own potsticker in the ponzu sauce. "How?"

"A really awful man put it in with my things when we were shopping for school supplies." I waved my hand, dismissing the image of Lucius Malfoy's haughty face from my imagination. _There's one that hasn't aged well,_ I thought, recalling his picture in the _Prophet_ when Draco and Astoria's engagement had been announced. "Anyway, it looked like a regular diary and when I wrote in it, it wrote back. I thought it was just an enchanted diary."

"But it wasn't an enchanted diary?"

"Well, it was definitely enchanted, but not in the good way. There was a spirit inside and it was possessing me. Making me do things." I swallowed convulsively, finishing off the rest of my cider.

"And you think this is what made you … vulnerable to these kinds of things?" Bless him for not asking what sorts of things I did, even though I could tell he desperately wanted to know.

"Magic can be funny sometimes. It's like anything else—the more you practice, the better you get—and I got a lot of practice at opening myself up to outside influences that year." The barmaid brought me a fresh cider and I nodded my thanks.

"Sounds more like something practiced on you," Ben said, sounding outraged for me.

I shrugged with one shoulder, not exactly disagreeing. "Anyway, because of that, some things happen to me a bit easier than they would to another witch or wizard. I think this was one of them." I picked up a potato skin and bit into it, savoring the combination of sour cream and green onions.

Ben leaned back in his seat, a thoughtful look on his face. "Huh. So I guess it was something like Lieutenant Hammond really wanting something and your magic reacting to it or whatever?"

"I think so."

"But why didn't it work?" He crossed his arms across his chest and frowned, turning his impressive diagnostic mind to our current situation.

"Well, it's possible that he needs more than just me. Remember when we were talking before, about how people and events will leave a sort of ripple or energy? I think it's just that there wasn't enough of Eliza's energy to draw Lieutenant Hammond to the other side." I'd been turning the idea over in my head and I felt like I had a pretty good idea of what our next step was, but I wanted to confirm it with Harry first before we went off on another wild goose chase.

"Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see what my future husband has to say." Leaning forward he surveyed the wreckage of the appetizer platter, picking up a boneless wing out of the detritus. "Now, what in the world did you write in that diary? And what did it say back?"

I ducked my head, face flaming in embarrassment. Sitting up straight, I swept my hair back from my face and looked my friend in the eye. "What do you think an eleven-year-old girl who has a crush on the most famous boy in the world writes in her diary about?"

Ben covered his nose and mouth with his hands, completely failing to squelch the high-pitched squeal he was making and I felt my face getting hotter. "You didn't! Oh, my God that is adorable!" He cleared his throat and grinned at me. _"Dear Diary, I saw Harry in the hall today on the way to owl training 101. I don't think he saw me. How can I make him notice me?"_

There was no way in the world I was letting him know how close to the mark he was. "Owl training. There's no such class. Well, there is Care of Magical Creatures, but it's not owls."

"Oh Ginny. What does it matter? You got your man in the end, didn't you?"

"Damn right I did." I dipped a boneless wing in the ranch sauce and ate it, just knowing that I was going to pay for this lunch in more ways than one. "Well, I'm not going to hear from said most famous boy in the world for a while longer. What shall we do to fill the time?"

"What do gay men and their female best friends always do?" he asked, popping the last mozzarella stick in his mouth and chewing quickly. "Go shopping!"

"Ginny Weasley-Potter-Mountbatten at your service," I crooned into the phone.

"Mountbatten? You can't claim that one at all," Harry said, the smile clear in his voice.

"You don't know. Have you seen my family tree?"

"I suppose you do have a point there. There are _so many_ of you, there's no telling who you're related to. What are you doing?"

"Shopping!" I was in the middle of an aisle full of different sorts of puzzles, in the middle of trying to find the right one for Teddy. I picked up a cube made out of wood. The package said, "Find all of the combinations!" and I thought it was a good candidate. I grabbed another Rubik's Cube as well. He wore them out so fast.

"Well, that's reassuring. It's not like you have a ghost to take care of or anything."

"Listen, you, I have been working very hard on that. In fact, we tried your idea this morning and it didn't work," I said, putting the puzzles in my shopping basket.

"What happened?" Harry sounded like his attention had sharpened and I could almost see him, thick dark brows drawn down over his eyes.

"Well, we chatted this morning and I told him that we needed to go to where Eliza's last descendent died, a woman named Anne," I said, moving away from a boy who'd come into the aisle.

"Right. So, you were able to find it?"

"Yes. We went back to the shop where I bought the … item," I said, keeping myself from spoiling his gift at the last second. "And asked the shopkeeper where she got it and she sort of remembered. We went to the area and Lieutenant Hammond said which house it was."

"All right. So far, so good, yeah? Anybody home?"

"No, thank goodness. You're going to laugh at me. Me and Ben put together this whole daft story about being survey takers before we knocked on the door and then Lieutenant Hammond said he could go in and check it out for us."

"Remember all those times I said you'd make a good Auror? I take them all back," Harry said, making me snort in response.

"I would make an excellent Auror. Anyway, I Apparated us into the house and we went to the bedroom and …" I looked down the aisle, scowling at the boy. "Hang on." I scouted around for a few moments until I found a quiet corner. "So we went into the room where, um, Anne died and something really weird happened."

"Something that _you_ thought was weird? This I have to hear."

"So we were there and I was sort of expecting him to kind of just fade away, but he didn't. He started to get a little fuzzy at the edges, but then he started to appear more real," I said, remembering the buzzing and then the throbbing that had started in my tattoo and spread out through my whole body.

"What? Like he was becoming corporeal?"

"Maybe? Ben could see him."

"Really? Like really see him?"

"He said so. Have you ever heard of a Muggle seeing a ghost?"

"There are stories, but every one I've investigated has been false. So he just became more visible?"

"Well, that's not quite all." I paused, thinking of how best to describe what I'd felt.

"Ginny, tell me what happened," Harry prompted, deciding that I'd been quiet for too long.

"So, he was there, by the bed all sad and fuzzy, so I went a bit closer and I started to feel my tattoo tingle, right? And that's when Lieutenant Hammond started to get a bit more color and then it changed to a more kind of throbbing everywhere and then Ben said he could see him."

Harry was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. "Did you feel tired? Drained? Hear anything unusual? Feel cold? Hot?" he asked in rapid-fire fashion.

I knew he was thinking of the incident with the soul fragment from Cornelius Maxwell and I hastened to reassure him. "No, no, nothing like that. Just this weird throbbing, buzzing … I don't know quite how to describe it."

"Was it like when the diary would possess you?" he asked gently.

"I can't really say. I wasn't strictly conscious when that was happening. But, I feel like he was using my magic somehow. Like I was a sort of conduit or power source or something," I said, directing the conversation away from that awful time.

"Hmm," Harry hummed thoughtfully. "But he's still here?"

"Yes. He said that he felt Eliza's pull, but it was very weak and that he couldn't cross over, even though my magic was opening the way for him." I hesitated for a moment. "Harry, it made me think of that archway thing you told me about in the Department of Mysteries."

"Oh, love, don't think of that, all right?" he said, his voice soft, the sound of it making me feel better. "I think you know what you need to do, yeah?"

My eyes had gone all prickly and I blinked several times, taking a deep breath. Thinking of Sirius falling into the archway always upset me and I pushed it aside. "I think you're saying that we need to figure out where this Eliza died."

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, you said he haunted her after he died, so in a sense, they were still together, right? They weren't really separated until she died, too."

"But she was a Muggle, so she couldn't become a ghost and she went on." I sighed. "Finding that place is going to be a tall order. We have to go home the day after tomorrow."

"I guess you can bring him home with you. He'd be great at helping Teddy with history."

"Ugh. No, he wants to go, so I'll do my best. Finding this place is going to be a nightmare. Have you ever been here? So many tiny little streets that just go everywhere. It's crazy."

"And you lived in London how long?"

"Yeah, but London makes a sort of sense."

"Love, you know as well as I do that London is completely demented."

"Well, so's Boston." I frowned at the rack of stuffed animals looking back at me, their empty eyes no help at all. "I'll have to see if I can pick Lieutenant Hammond's brain or ectoplasm or whatever he has and see if he can give us a general idea of where to start looking."

"I think that sounds like about the best you can do. Unless … see if you can find out her full name and maybe who her husband was, yeah? I'll do a bit of searching on my end."

"Oh, do you think Juanita would help? That would be fantastic!" I said, a zing of excitement shooting through me.

"Juanita would probably want you to bring him here. A first-hand historical witness, can you imagine? She'd go spare."

"She's welcome to him. That settles it. If I can't get him sent back, she's inheriting him," I said with finality.

"I thought you said he was tied up in my gift?"

"I'll bring you another gift instead."

"Oh? Maybe this will be the one from that shop with all the pink stuff?" Harry said, practically purring into my ear. I closed my eyes, visualizing myself in front of him in the barest scraps of frilly clothing. The way he'd look at me, those green eyes of his dark, the lights of the candles in the room giving him a gorgeous golden glow … "Gin? Are we still connected?"

"Sorry, sorry, my mind went on a bit of a wander there." My face flamed in embarrassment and I felt like I'd been caught in the middle of doing something naughty. "So, yes. I'll see if I can have a chat with our lieutenant soon. Shall I text you what I find out?"

"Yeah. I have a late day. Practice and then Artemis wants to chat to me about something he's got up his sleeve."

"Poor baby. What are you doing for dinner?"

"Dinner? I haven't even had lunch, have I? Been on the phone with you."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should let you go," I said, feeling exactly the opposite. When I'd learned Ben and I would be coming to the conference, I didn't anticipate missing Harry and Teddy this much.

"You all right?" Harry asked, sensing my mood even from all the way across the country.

"Yeah, just missing you and Teddy is all. And I'm anxious about this whole redcoat ghost thing."

"We miss you too. Teddy was complaining about how we don't do anything when you're not around. 'School and home, school and home' he said last night. Just bitching up a storm," Harry said, sounding like every aggrieved parent that had come before him.

"You should do something fun tonight. Go to the cinema or dinner or something."

"Yeah, maybe. I think we're getting on each other's nerves all cooped up together." Harry sighed and yawned. "I need to go if I'm going to get any lunch."

"All right. Thanks for your suggestion. I'll see what I can get out of Lieutenant Hammond and text you what I find. It would be brilliant if you find something." I spied Ben at the end of the aisle, looking for me and I motioned him over. "My minder has come to find me, so I guess I'll let you go. Love you."

"Love you. We'll chat tonight either way, all right?"

"Ooh, another bedtime story?" I said, a flood of warmth making me tingle all over.

"Maybe. Not making any promises." He paused for a moment and I thought he'd gone, but then he spoke again. "Listen, I know you want to help him, but only if you feel safe, all right? I don't know quite what to make of what happened and it's got me a bit worried."

"I know. I'll be fine," I said with a bit more bravado than I felt.

"Love you," he said again, sounding wistful.

"Love you, too. Bye." I took the phone away from my ear, watching the screen as Harry disconnected the call, putting himself all the way back across the country from me.

Ben stood in front of me, arms folded. "Was that my future husband?"

"I think you mean my current husband," I said primly, picking a stuffed penguin off the shelf and tucking him under my arm. _No fair Teddy is the only one to get something from the toy store._ "He says that he thinks we need to find out where Eliza herself died."

Ben rolled his eyes, choosing a polar bear for himself. "And how are we supposed to do that?"

"I need to talk to Lieutenant Hammond the next time he shows up and see what he can tell us. If he can't tell us where the actual place of death is, then I've been directed to find out as much about Eliza and her husband as I can and then tell Harry. He said he can do some searching around or enlist Juanita," I said, walking toward the front of the store, looking for anything else I thought Teddy might like. I grabbed a packet of silly straws. He was still enough of a boy that he'd enjoy them.

"So I guess we just hang out until our ghostly lieutenant shows up again?"

"I guess." I put my things on the counter, smiling sheepishly at the young man as he rang up the penguin.

"Great. Let's drop off our loot and then go to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Did you know they had this huge heist a long time ago and they still have the empty frames up? So tragic!"

"And then we went to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. They have the most wonderful gardens, but it was just too cold outside to spend time out there. We'll have to come back in the summer. I think Teddy would really like all of the history here. Oh! And there was a robbery in 1990! Thirteen pieces of art were stolen and the museum keeps the empty frames up. I thought it was a bit off-putting, but Ben insisted that it was a tragic symbol of hope." I lay on the bed, my head towards the foot with my feet up on the headboard. My legs were a bit swollen from all of the walking the last few days, so I was spending some time with them elevated. _Physician, heal thyself,_ I thought.

"Yeah?" Harry said, sounding relaxed. "What else did they have besides frozen-over gardens and empty frames?"

"Well, you know I had to see the drawings," I said, remembering our trip to the Met in New York City and the little sketchbook he'd bought me there. _Marry me,_ whispered in my ear.

"Of course. Did you do any drawing yourself? Any well-endowed sculptures?"

"No, I didn't do any of those. I didn't bring a sketchbook. Ben tried to show me a drawing thing on my phone, but it was just too …"

"Technical?"

"Yes! Exactly. I like the feel of pencil and paper. Scribbling with my finger on a piece of glass isn't the same." I yawned and stretched my hands over my head. It was after midnight and I was feeling the effects of the stress of the last few days. "What did you end up doing?"

"Took Teddy and some of the boys out to Fenton's."

"Fenton's? Weren't you just complaining to me that your trousers were getting a bit tight?"

"I never said anything like that."

"Yes you did. Right before I left you accused me of shrinking your things and I said that it was more like you were expanding." I grinned at the memory of Harry standing in front of the mirror on the closet door in his boxers as he studied his waistline.

"You must have misheard me," Harry said and I let it go. He wasn't vain about much, but he did like keeping himself fit.

"Oh, what did Artemis want to talk to you about?" I asked, changing the subject.

Harry sighed and I could just about see him rolling his eyes. "He wanted to chat to me about starting up a dueling club."

"Really? What prompted that?"

"Apparently a bunch of Sophomores and Juniors have been pestering him about it since the school year started. He finally said he'd listen to their proposal if they put together a solid plan and got enough signatures on a petition," he said, sounding aggrieved.

"A petition setting you up as the head of a dueling club circulates around the school and you don't know about it? Some Auror you are."

" _Ex_ -Auror, love. I knew something was going on, but those little buggers did a good job of keeping it from me. I even grilled Teddy and he swore up and down that he didn't know anything about it. Damn Metamorphmagus and his poker face."

I smiled, all too able to picture Teddy looking Harry straight in the eye and lying his face off. He was a good boy, but we didn't kid ourselves that he was completely innocent in all things. "Are you going to do it?"

"Maybe. Old Grigsby used to run one ages ago, but I gather there was some sort of incident and it was disbanded. Some of the other schools have them. I might make a trip up to Snohomish and see how theirs is run."

"A weekend in Seattle would be wonderful. We can stop at that candy place for some Christmas gifts," I said, thinking of all the other things I might want to do up there. Their magic quarter had a particular herbalist with some things that were quite difficult to find in California and I was running low on some things.

"Who says you get to go?" Harry said, breaking into my thoughts of shopping expeditions.

"Are you telling me that you'll be taking off for Washington as soon as I get back? That you're not lying around the house, just pining for me?" I said, picturing him lying disconsolately on the sofa, one arm thrown across his eyes dramatically, his other arm hanging off of the edge, a letter from me clutched tightly in his hand.

"Do I sound like I'm pining?" His voice held a challenge and I sat up, judging I'd had my legs elevated for long enough.

"You sound like you're desperate. Like you're all alone, with no relief in sight. Just you and your hand and a bottle of lube."

"What about you?" he whispered, "it's just you and your hand, yeah?"

"I don't need lube," I whispered back, a tingling thrill shooting through me at Harry's groan that turned into a full-throated belly laugh, making me laugh in turn. "So, what did you find out about Eliza's husband?" I asked when we'd finally regained control of ourselves. Lieutenant Hammond had decided to pop back into existence when we were in the Dutch Room at the museum. I'd been studying a Rembrandt self-portrait when he'd materialized next to me.

"There you are," I said quietly, glancing toward the guard in the corner of the room. He didn't seem to be paying me any mind, so I continued to look at the portrait. "How are you feeling?"

The ghost floated, eyes fixed on the painting. "Eliza used to paint. She was quite clever," he said, poking one translucent finger through the canvas.

"Oh? Did she keep it up?"

"No. When she married, her mother said it was time to set aside her girlish things and focus on her husband, home and children." He turned to look at me, a mournful look on his face. "I would have given her paints in all the colors of the rainbow."

My heart thumped very hard for a few beats and I felt the prickle of tears at the corners of my eyes. Harry frequently came home with little art supplies for me. A pen or a sort of paper he thought I'd like. He had a knack for noticing when my favorite colored pencils had gotten down to nubs and quietly replaced them.

"Was her husband a good man?" I asked, trying to get him focused on the information I needed so I could get him on his way.

"He was not a bad man. He was a good provider and Eliza seemed happy enough."

"What was his name?"

"Joshua Roberts. A merchant, like her father. Dealt in wool and eventually cotton," he said, floating away from me to scrutinize a piece of furniture. Ben looked at me with a raised eyebrow and came to stand next to me.

"Was he well-known? A Patriot like her father?"

"The two were as peas in a pod," the ghost snorted. "I do believe that he was angling for their betrothal before I appeared on these shores and nearly upset his plans before I was conveniently shot."

"Do you remember where they lived? I was talking to Harry about what happened earlier today and he said that he thought you needed to be where Eliza herself passed," I said gently. I didn't want to upset him and make him disappear before I could get the information I needed. "I only have tomorrow left to help you and then I have to go back home."

"With him in your pocket," Ben whispered. I elbowed him and he rolled his eyes at me, sauntering away to examine an old vase.

The ghost didn't answer right away and I began to fear he'd gotten into a sulk, but then he sighed and took off his tricorne hat, patting his powdered hair. "I remember where she passed from this world."

A tingle shot through me and I suppressed the impulse to give a little hop. "Do you think you could find it? We could go there right now!"

Lieutenant Hammond placed his hat back on his head, seating it with military precision. "Everything is so strange now. I haven't been able to recognize much these last few days."

"But if we got close, do you think you could feel something like when we found the spot by where the mill pond used to be? Some lingering energy?" The guard looked at me and I realized I'd started speaking louder in my excitement. I gave him a goofy grin, trying to look unhinged enough to be kooky and not dangerous.

Hammond perked up. "Yes. I'm certain that I would be able to feel any latent energy from her. If we can get close enough."

"All right. In order to do that, I'm going to need some more information from you. It might be upsetting, but I'll need some information about her husband." I looked at him, gauging his reaction.

"What kind of information?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, his name, which you've already given. Maybe the year they were married, if you know when he died, what neighborhood they used to live in, that sort of thing." I kept my voice calm and quiet, very much like I was dealing with a nervous patient with a fear of needles.

"Ah, yes. All right." He floated quietly in front of the painting and I took out my little phone, looking for the note taking icon, ready to jot down what he told me. "Joshua Roberts was born sometime in 1751. I never bothered to find out the exact date. He died the fourth of April, 1811, leaving Eliza a wealthy widow." He made a derisive snorting sound. "I suppose he was good for something after all."

"You said he was a woolen and cotton merchant. Did he do business under his own name?" I asked, jotting down the dates. As we chatted, I found out that Joshua Roberts operated under his own name and that he was a shrewd businessman, eventually turning over the business to his and Eliza's eldest son, William. He'd died rather unexpectedly from an infection after cutting his hand on a nail. _Probably tetanus,_ I thought. _Terrible way to go and so easily treated now._

"He was liked in the community and his funeral was well-attended."

"Oh, that's good. Maybe Harry will be able to find an obituary. Do you know what street they lived on?" I asked, hoping it was close by.

"They had a house on Orange Street. It was a wedding gift from her father and she lived there until she died on the twenty-first of June, 1841," he said, staring at the Rembrandt without really seeing it.

"Orange Street. All right. We'll see if we can find out what's there now and what we need to do to solve your little … problem." I quickly texted the information to Harry, getting a _Thanks, talk later_ in response.

"Well, I have some good news and some bad news on that front," Harry said. I could hear him shifting around. "Hang on, let me get my laptop." A moment later, he spoke again. "I was able to find a bit of information on Joshua Roberts, but not a whole lot. He certainly wasn't famous or anything. Just some bits about woolens. Looks like the business carried on for a couple more generations and then just disappeared."

"What about Orange Street? Did you find anything about that? I haven't seen a street called Orange in our walking around."

"And you won't. I found out it's called Washington Street now."

I frowned, a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Harry, that street is huge. It'll take forever to find the spot where Eliza died."

"Maybe not. According to what I was able to find out, the part of Washington Street that used to be Orange is only a few blocks."

"From where to where?"

"Essex south to somewhere around East Berkeley Street."

I sighed, not looking forward to more tromping around in the cold, slushy streets. "Well, I guess there's nothing for it. If I don't want to come home with him, I need to get this done." I thought about my predicament for a moment. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Well, I've been looking into that, too. From what you've said, he's not malevolent, but there are some things that can be done to sever his connection to whatever it is he's tethered to. It's not a very nice thing and I'd rather not do it, but if he isn't able to move on, then this could be a sort of freedom for him."

"A last resort, then." I yawned and stretched, glancing at the clock and the late hour.

"I should let you go," Harry said quietly. "You've got a ghost to re-home tomorrow."

"I thought I was going to get a story tonight," I pouted. "All about how you're pining and wasting away, just missing me."

"Get rid of that ghost and you'll get something better than a story," Harry said, his voice practically a purr.

"Oh, now you've got my attention." I curled up on my side, closing my eyes and envisioning Harry in a tight white tee shirt and loose trackies that did absolutely nothing to hide his charms.

"Good. I'll talk to you later. Good night," he said, disconnecting the call before I could say anything.

I looked at the phone in my hand with my mouth open in dismay, the display showing only the list of recent calls. "That jerk! Who does he think he is?" I grumbled. A message notification popped up and I tapped on it. A picture of Harry clearly taken in front of the closet mirror in the bedroom came up. He had on pajama bottoms and that was it, a confident smirk on his face. _Something for you to think about,_ the message said.

"Something to think about, indeed," I snorted, eyes lingering on the picture before shutting off the screen and setting the phone on the nightstand with a bit more force than necessary. I rolled myself under the covers, snuggling down determinedly. "I'll give him something to think about!"


	7. Chapter 7

"Good morning, Sunshine!" I sang as Ben shuffled into the breakfast room, sitting down in the seat across from me with a grunt. "What's that about?"

Ben ripped open three packets of artificial sweetener at once and dumped them into his coffee, making far too much noise with his stirring. I waited patiently, sipping my tea while my friend worked himself out of his strop. "I don't know if I'm cut out for a long-distance relationship," he finally said.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" I settled more comfortably in my chair and poured a bit more tea from the pot into my cup. I had the feeling that this could be a long conversation.

"Well, last night I decided I'd give Gavin a call. You know, see what he was up to, get to know him a bit better, maybe … you know." Ben looked to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"A little bit of phone sex?"

"What do you know about phone sex?"

"Quite a lot lately, as it turns out." I gave him a grin that seemed to lift his spirits a bit and he took a bite out of a danish, grinning back at me as he chewed.

"Really? I would have thought that wizards have something … different."

"Well, some can send messages back and forth with their Patronuses, but that's a bit difficult to be sexy with, especially over long distances. My brother George has a few things. He's got a line of naughty Daydream Charms and he's been working on an enchanted parchment."

"Daydream Charms, you say?"

I shook my head, knowing what he was going to ask next. "They don't work on Muggles. Sorry."

"What about that enchanted parchment? Have you tried it out?"

"No. It's a bit too close to that diary I told you about."

"Oh. Sorry."

I waved my hand at him and drank some more tea. "So, how did it go? Did you 'get to know him better'?"

Ben sighed and shook his head. "No. It was awkward. You know how you're with someone in person and you just click? But then when you try to recapture whatever was there, it's just not?" I nodded, my heart breaking a little bit for him. "It was kind of like that when I called him. It was like I was intruding or something, you know?"

"Oh, love, I'm sorry. Maybe he was having an off night or a bad day?"

He shrugged and put on a brave face. "Well, it's not the first time something like that has happened. I'm sure it won't be the last. How was your night? Was Harry able to dig something up on our dead guy?"

I let Ben change the subject, sure that Dr Gavin would come up again and nodded. "Yes, he found out a few things. Remember that the lieutenant said that Eliza and Joshua lived on Orange Street? Well, Harry found out that it's called Washington Street now."

Ben frowned as he finished his pastry. "That's a huge street. It's going to take all day."

I pulled out my phone and went to my notes I'd jotted down in the morning. "According to Harry, the bit that used to be Orange Street is just a few blocks, so we should be all right." Ben looked at my notes and took out his own phone, looking at a map.

"Essex to East Berkeley? Oh. You know what's there?"

"No." I leaned forward, looking at the map he showed me. "Tufts Medical Center? Oh, I'm sure there's no way that's anywhere near where we're looking for."

"I bet you it is."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not a betting woman, then." Ben narrowed his eyes at me and drank more of his coffee, setting the cup down in the saucer with a snap.

"Have you spoken to our friend this morning?"

"No, he hasn't materialized yet. I've got the box here, though." I patted my pocket, hoping that Lieutenant Hammond would be showing up soon.

"Well, I'm going to get some bacon and some eggs. It looks like we have a long day ahead of us and I can't run on danish alone."

After sitting in the cozy breakfast room, I wasn't looking forward to going back out into the Boston cold, but I felt the snuff box in my pocket and girded my loins, adding a tee shirt to the layers underneath my jumper. I wound my wooly scarf securely around my neck and tightened the laces on my waterproof boots.

"All right, Lieutenant Hammond. Let's send you onwards," I said, nodding at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like I was going on an artic expedition and Ben raised his eyebrows when he saw me.

"Okay, I don't know where you're going, but I'm going to catch the T to Chinatown. Um, feel free to come with me," he said, showing me the map. "Look, it's right at Essex and Washington."

"Oh, brilliant. Shall we?" We linked arms and headed out on what would hopefully be our last adventure, joining the masses of commuters on the T. A few minutes later, we emerged from the underground station and I shivered just as a burst of frigid air hit me full in the face.

"What about our friend?" Ben asked as we headed down Washington Street, stepping carefully around slushy piles of dirty snow.

"I hope he turns up soon."

"Can you call him?"

"Well, why don't I just ring him up on my ghost phone?" I said tartly.

"No need to get snippy. I just meant that maybe if you opened up the little box or something maybe he'd hear you?"

I stopped in my tracks, mouth falling open. "That's actually a really good idea."

"Thank you." He looked up and down the sidewalk. It was a little busy, so he led me off to the side, closer to a little brick plaza with a plaque about a tree. "I'll shield you."

Feeling more than a bit ridiculous, I pulled the beautiful silver box out of my jeans pocket, looking at the "H" carved into the lid. I flipped it open and held it up near my face, clearing my throat. "Lieutenant Hammond, can you hear me? We're going to need your help here in a few minutes." I glanced over at Ben. He was standing with his arms crossed, doing his best to look menacing. Normally I would have said he was as menacing as a golden retriever puppy, but he was actually making a good job of it. "So if you could, um, come out, I'd really appreciate it."

I waited a moment, senses on high alert, before closing the lid and putting the box back in my pocket. "Well?" Ben asked, looking around the area with narrowed eyes.

"I put in my call. We'll see if he answers, I guess." I jammed my hands in my pockets and bounced up and down on the balls of my feet. "Let's give him a few minutes. I don't want to get further down the street and have to come back or miss the place." To pass the time, I looked down at the plaque on the ground. "Sons of Liberty? Who're they?" I said aloud, startled when Lieutenant Hammond answered me.

"A gang of underground rabble-rousers," he said, looking down at the plaque with a look of distaste. "There was an elm tree here that they used to hang effigies of those that agreed with the right and lawful decrees of King George."

"Oh, there you are," I said, ignoring his comment about the colonial rebels. "Listen, we're going to walk down this street here. According to Harry, the place where Eliza died should be somewhere around here. I need you to tell me when we're close, all right?"

The lieutenant nodded somberly and squared his shoulders. "Yes. I would like this business … concluded."

"Is he here?" Ben asked, blowing on his hands to warm them.

"Yes. Shall we?"

"Hold on. I'm going in there and getting us some coffee." He ducked into a donut shop, coming out a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee and handed me one. It was just the way I liked it and I kissed him on the cheek.

"Let's go." We set off down the street, staying on the right side after a short consultation with our ghost. We passed several small, rather shabby storefronts and soon we could see Tufts Medical Center looming up ahead. "Anything?" I asked after we passed a 99-cent shop.

Lieutenant Hammond paused for a moment, floating in place. "I feel something, something pulling at me."

"Ahead? Behind?"

"Ahead." He floated forward, leaving me and Ben behind.

"He says he feels something pulling him forward."

"It's gonna be somewhere in Tufts, I'm telling you."

I was beginning to think he was right, but I was damned if I'd give him the satisfaction of saying so. "We'll see."

As we got closer to the medical center, the traffic on the pavement increased and Hammond simply passed through the people, causing several of them to stop in their tracks and look around, clearly alarmed at the sensation of a ghost passing through them. We'd reached a statue of a bear that had a crowd of people around it taking pictures when the lieutenant stopped, turning slowly in place. I touched Ben on the shoulder as I watched the ghost.

"Do you feel something?" I murmured, trying to look like I was speaking to the living, breathing man standing next to me and not some spot in midair.

"I feel an … energy. It feels like her," Hammond said, his voice sounding distant. I looked closely at him, checking to see if he was getting fuzzy at the edges like he had before or if he was exhibiting any extra color, but he still looked gray and translucent.

"Can you tell a direction?"

Lieutenant Hammond looked at me like he'd just remembered my existence and he drifted forward, passing through a group of children who were posing in front of the bear statue. They all jumped and shrieked just as their picture was taken. I grabbed Ben's arm and pulled him along with me as I followed the ghost towards an entrance of the hospital.

"See! I told you!" Ben hissed as Lieutenant Hammond disappeared through the wall of the hospital.

"Fine! I'll buy you a donut! Come on!" I dragged him through the entrance to something called the Floating Hospital for Children.

"Oh, this place is awesome!" Ben said, looking around in awe. We were in a reception area with a wide, horseshoe-shaped desk crammed full of the usual assortment of papers, baskets and computers, but instead of dull, industrial-colored walls, these walls were covered in whimsical murals featuring different sorts of woodland creatures, all of whom seemed to be recovering from one injury or other.

Acutely aware of the staff and our lack of an ill child, I took Ben's hand and led him off to one side of the large reception area. "Ben, we're sticking out like a couple of sore thumbs," I whispered.

"Where did the ghost go?" he whispered back.

"I don't know. He shot in here so quick."

"Well now what do we do?"

"We have to find him, don't we? I don't think he can do anything without me there."

"So what are we waiting for?"

I sighed and waved the hand not holding my coffee between us. "Look at us. We look like parents, not doctors. We can't just go roaming around like this."

"Okay, so we need to look like we belong here. Can't you …" he said, twitching his nose and waving a finger in the air.

"Not in the middle of the reception area!" I glanced over at the main desk, glad that no one appeared to be looking at us. "Let's duck into a loo and I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, Mrs Potter, are you sure your husband won't mind?" Ben simpered at me, putting his finger against his lips.

"It's a good thing my husband trusts me implicitly, Mr Frye. Come on." We followed the signs to the restrooms and I ducked into the ladies, motioning Ben in once I verified it was empty and then locked the door with my wand. I looked at our reflections in the mirror, planning out the transfiguration in my mind.

"Here, put your gloves in your coat pocket and take off your hat," I said, following suit. "I'm not going to do our boots; no one notices those anyway."

"Speak for yourself, missy," Ben said, ruffling his fingers through his short blond hair.

Ignoring him for the moment, I visualized what I wanted and executed the spell, transforming our warm winter clothes into scrubs and white coats, making us look like any one of the hundred other doctors crawling over the place. After a moment's thought, I conjured up a couple of clipboards as well.

"You are amazing," Ben said, smoothing down the front of the dark blue scrub top. I'd conjured one with bunnies all over it for myself. "It feels like scrubs!"

"Well, that's because it is. I haven't just changed how it looks. I've actually changed your coat into that lab coat and your jumper and jeans into those scrubs," I said, basking in his amazement.

"And you can turn it all back?"

"Of course."

"Amazing." He looked down at the clipboard and frowned. "What's written on here? Goblin wars?"

"Just some boring stuff from magical history. Come on, I want this over with." I unlocked the door and poked my head out. "The coast is clear. Let's go." We quickly exited the loo and headed down a hallway, away from the reception area.

"Where do you think he might be?" Ben asked out of the side of his mouth. He was doing a good job of looking like a busy doctor as he walked, flipping back and forth through the papers on the clipboard.

"I'm assuming somewhere on the ground floor. Eliza might have died on the first floor, sorry, second floor of her house, but that could be in the middle of the air by now, you know?" I said, nodding to a nurse as we passed.

"Oh God, I hope she didn't die in the ductwork!"

"Pretty sure she wasn't a squirrel. Let's check in here." I opened a door, peering into a storage closet full of clean linens and no ghost. Shaking my head at Ben, we moved on, taking quick looks into the open doors we passed, trying to look much too busy to be interrupted. Most of the rooms were occupied by children surrounded by tubes and machines and my heart went out to them.

There was a nurse's station ahead in front of some imposing double doors and I nudged Ben toward one side of the wide hallway. "Game plan?"

Ben looked at the nurse's station through narrowed eyes. "I think we'll be all right if we walk quickly and don't really look at them. Channel Dr Potter on a bad day."

"That should be pretty easy." I took a deep breath and nodded. "All right." As it turned out all of that worry was for nothing because the nurses at the station didn't even look up as we sailed past and opened the doors. We employed the same tactic on subsequent doors and covered the first floor with no sight of our ghostly charge.

"Shit," I said as the reception area came back into view.

"Do you think he's back in his box?"

"I doubt it. I imagine he's wherever that energy is coming from, just waiting for me to show up. Bloody ghost," I muttered. _I wonder, if I just leave him here, will he haunt the hospital instead?_

"So should we go up a floor?"

"No, I don't think that's the answer." There was a hospital directory on the wall nearby and I walked over, looking at the map, tapping one spot. "There's a basement. Usually new things are built on top of old things, aren't they?"

"Seems reasonable." Ben looked at the map. "Cafeteria, admitting, outpatient …" Ben shrugged and looked at me, pressing the lift call button. "Let's try it, I guess." The doors opened and we exchanged nods with another nurse as she got off on our floor. "We really are invisible with these on. I'll have to start paying more attention to faces at home," Ben remarked as the doors closed.

The familiar smells of hospital cafeteria food assaulted me, giving me a brief spurt of homesickness. It was getting on toward lunchtime and the cafeteria was busy. I desperately hoped I wouldn't see Lieutenant Hammond floating in the middle of the chaos. "Is he in here?" Ben whispered as we exited the lift.

"No, thank goodness. Let's head over there," I said, nodding toward the outpatient area. The layout was similar to the place Ben and I had done our clinic hours in when we were still in school with a central desk and a rabbit warren of treatment rooms behind it. We left the closed doors alone, focusing on the open ones first. "Oh! There he is!" A flood of relief washed through me when I saw our quarry in the middle of a blessedly empty treatment room.

"Finally! Now what?" I stood, transfixed by the figure of the ghost. He looked more sharply-defined and I was dimly aware of Ben closing the door and hitting the button that lit up a little red light outside that indicated the room was occupied.

I took a deep breath as I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart. Thanks to the Auror spell on it, my tattoo started to buzz more intensely and I pushed the sensation aside, focusing on finding a calm center. _You're not eleven anymore, Tom is dead and gone. No one is going to possess you. You just need to open yourself up to … something and let this nice ghost use you as a conduit,_ I thought, giving myself a little pep talk.

Stepping closer to him, I felt a rushing sound in my ears as he looked at me. "She was here," he said quietly. "Right here when she passed. I finally found her."

"You did," I said, pushing down the impulse to chide him for making us look all over the hospital for him. "Are you ready? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. I have held on to this world for too long. I have no place here anymore," he said, focusing on me. Color had flooded him, turning his coat a brilliant red and his trousers to cream. His black boots shone with the mellow gloss of well-cared for leather.

The buzzing sensation that started in my tattoo had spread through my body in what I imagined being electrocuted might feel like. I reached out toward Lieutenant Hammond, surprised when my hand passed through his; he looked so solid and real that I honestly expected to feel flesh. All of the small hairs on my body felt like they were standing at attention and I experienced a sharp itching sensation right between my shoulder blades.

"Oh my God," I heard Ben breathe behind me as he pointed to a silvery cloud swirling just above the treatment table.

I wanted to say, "You can see that?" but my tongue was frozen, glued to the roof of my mouth and all I could do was stare as my magic responded to the connection between Lieutenant Hammond and the energy left by Eliza's passing.

As we stared, I became aware of changes to the room. The treatment table was now a bed and the cold, clinical room turned into a small, dark bedroom with curtains closed over the windows. An old woman lay on the bed, hand out to one side as if someone unseen was holding it. _Eliza! At last!_ I thought, my eyes smarting with unshed tears.

Hammond drifted closer to the side of the bed, transfixed by the figure on the bed. "Eliza," he whispered, "I'm here! I'm here with you."

Eliza's eyes opened and they were indeed as blue as a summer sky. She stared at him, mouth curling into a smile that summoned the image of the coquettish young girl she used to be. "Richard! I knew you never left me!"

"I was always right here! I would never leave you!"

She reached out for him and when they made contact, I felt a wave of pressure and I stumbled back a step, bumping into Ben behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, holding me steady as power continued to rush out of me.

"I have to go," she said, sounding sorrowful. "I'm old now and you're still so young and handsome."

Lieutenant Hammond laid his hand gently on her wrinkled cheek, smiling down at her with such a look of adoration that my throat tightened in response. "You are the same as you ever were, to me," he said softly, kissing her on that cheek. As he did, a ripple spread out from that kiss and Eliza was transformed from a dying old woman to a beautiful woman in the flush of youth.

She sat up, dark, curling hair in a proper updo and blue eyes snapping with excitement. Sweeping the heavy blankets off her lap, she took her true love's hand and stood, smoothing the bodice and skirts of her fine woolen dress. The two of them made a fine pair together and I felt a surge from somewhere deep inside of me and I swayed a little bit, glad Ben was holding me up.

"Is that really her?" he whispered, voice full of amazement.

I shook my head. The Eliza in front of me didn't feel quite the same to my magic as the ghost of the lieutenant did. "I don't think so … I think this is something else," I whispered as the pair turned their attention to me.

"Ginny Potter, this is my Eliza. You have restored her to me and for that you have my utmost gratitude," Lieutenant Hammond said gravely. He executed a deep, formal bow and Eliza curtsied to me. "I apologize if I have been bothersome these last days."

"Oh, no, it's been no trouble," I said, finally able to croak out a few words. Eliza smiled shyly at me and looked up at Richard, clasping his hand tight. One wall began to glow with a strange white light, reminding me a little of the time I'd met the twisted soul fragment of Cornelius Maxwell in my own mind. _No, this is nothing like that!_

"Be that as it may, we thank you." He looked down at Eliza, putting one finger under her chin as he kissed her gently. "But now we are ready to depart." He tipped his tricorn hat to both me and Ben, and laying Eliza's hand firmly on his arm, turned and walked directly into the wall. In a second, the two of them were swallowed up.

I heard a loud popping sound and the sensation of pressure abruptly ceased and I sagged against Ben. My heart had been hammering in my chest and I took several deep breaths as a head-to-toe shiver ran through my body. I no longer felt like my magic was bleeding out of me and I rubbed my hand over my tattoo. "Are you all right?" Ben asked, steering me toward a rolling stool and helping me sit down. There was a small stack of cups and he filled one with water, shoving it in my hand.

Drinking deeply, I nodded, listening as Ben continued to chatter in amazement over what he'd just seen. "God, no wonder they fell in love with each other! They're both super hot!" He stared at the wall that they had disappeared into and sighed, wiping a tear from his eye.

A polite knock sounded on the door and we froze, staring at each other. I quickly finished the water and tossed the cup in the bin, looking frantically for my conjured clipboard. I grabbed it from the treatment table where I didn't remember setting it and stood up, swaying at the sudden drop in blood pressure.

"Just a minute!" Ben called through the door, shooting me a concerned look. I nodded and he opened the door, revealing a wide-eyed nurse. "Everything seems to be in order here, Dr Potter. Shall we move on?" he said, stepping through the door authoritatively, causing the nurse to scoot to the side.

"Thank you for your consultation on this case, Dr Frye," I said, giving the bewildered nurse a short, businesslike nod. We sailed down the hall as if we had very pressing business elsewhere in the hospital, waiting for the nurse to raise an alarm, but we didn't hear anything and in a few moments, we were back out in the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria.

"Let's get out of here," I whispered, eager to get to a place where we could just fade into the crowd. Rounding a corner, I took advantage of a deserted hallway to restore our clothing, pulling my hat down firmly over my head. I hoped that no one would remember the unfamiliar ginger and blond doctors and we could just stroll out.

The sunlight reflecting off the dirty snow outside made me squint and I took deep gulps of the fresh cold air as the last vestiges of tension drained away. I pulled the silver snuff box out of my pocket, running my fingers over the "H" engraved in the lid. _Goodbye, Lieutenant Richard Hammond,_ I thought. _I hope you and Eliza will be happy together at last._


	8. Chapter 8

"We didn't get to go on a haunted Boston walking tour," Ben said after taking a long swallow of his ale.

"Ugh, I've had enough of ghosts. You have my blessing," I said, staring into my glass of cider. I kept seeing Lieutenant Hammond and the _(Ghost? Simulation?)_ of Eliza disappearing into the blank whiteness. _What did he find there? Was she waiting for him?_

"Still want to check out the Widener Library and check for cold spots?" He gave me a cheeky grin and fished around in the bowl of salty bar snacks. We were back in the supposedly haunted bar to decompress and debrief after our spectral encounter.

"The only thing I want to do is spend some quality time in a hot bath. And then I want to order far too much from room service."

Ben chuckled and played around with some empty peanut shells, a pensive look on his face. I sipped my cider and waited for him to say whatever was on his mind. "So, um, Lieutenant Hammond was a ghost, right?"

"Yes. He was a Squib which is a non-magical child born of magical parents. They can't _do_ magic themselves, but they can do things like sense Dementors and poltergeists. And become ghosts, apparently," I said, wondering what he was getting at.

"So, he was a ghost and he … um … moved on or whatever." Ben swept the peanut shells to the floor and dusted off his hands, folding his arms against his chest and looking at me. "Does that mean that things like souls and the afterlife are real?"

Taken aback by his question, I sat back in my seat, trying to think of how I might answer him. "Well, yes, I suppose it does. Look, I've told you about Dementors, right? How they're these really awful things that rob you of every happy thought you've ever had?" Ben nodded, blue eyes serious. "Well, one of the things they can do is something called the Dementor's Kiss. It's reserved for punishment only for really terrible crimes."

"What does it do?" Ben asked in a hushed tone.

"The Dementor sucks out your soul."

"What?" he said after a moment of shocked silence and I nodded. "So … wait … what about the body?"

"Well, the body still exists. Still breathes, eats, sleeps. They can follow basic directions, but not much else. There's no essential spark, you see. What made them _them_ is gone." I put my hand on his and squeezed. "Don't worry though. Dementors don't really go after Muggles."

"That's horrifying. And you use that for punishment?" Ben still looked shocked, like he'd found out that unicorns hunted and ate squirrels and bunnies.

"Well, that's one of the things that my brother hopes to change one day. He says that there's rumblings going around the magical legal community back home about 'cruel and unusual' punishment." I took a long drink of my cider. Talking about such terrible things always gave me a dry mouth. "Plus, it's quite a burden. The criminal is punished, but then who takes care of what's left? They're either a burden on their family or a burden on the community if they don't have any."

Ben contemplated this, crushing another peanut shell between his fingers. "Have you ever seen it done?"

"No. I've dealt with the consequences, but I've not seen it done. Harry and Ron have, though."

"What? When? Who?"

"It was a long time ago now. Not too long after they made full Aurors. One of the Death Eater crowd was condemned for killing an entire family of Muggles during the war. Well, killing and then mutilating their bodies." I thought back to that time, how adamant they were that they witness justice being done. Harry had come to my apartment afterwards and I'd held him as he shook for what seemed like hours.

"And so … if there are souls, then there's an afterlife?" Ben paused for a moment. "Should I be going to church?"

I suppressed the urge to giggle at him; he'd made a pretty astounding discovery today and needed to figure out what it meant for himself. "You can go to church if you want to, love, but you don't _need_ to."

"I don't? Do you go to … wizard church?"

Now I did grin at the thought of a wizard church. "No, there's no such thing. We don't really put much stock in the notion of a man up in the sky guiding and observing our actions or passing judgement on us." I shrugged and leaned forward. "I can create water out of thin air, so what can the sky man do for me?"

"But can you turn it into wine?"

"Well, Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration says—" I started, but Ben waved his hand at me.

"I don't need to know the particulars. I just, I mean, the two of them walking off into that light. I guess we really _do_ head towards the light."

"Yeah, I guess we do. Before today I'd never seen a ghost go on. I did have a ghost manifest on me after someone died in St Mungos. That was rather odd."

Ben perked up, sensing a good story and he leaned forward. "Whoa, you never told me about this. What happened?"

"Well, it was about a year before I decided to come to the US for medical school. This really disagreeable old man had come down with Spattergroit …"

Later that evening, Ben's phone rang as we walked back into the hotel lobby. We'd treated ourselves to a "lobstah dinnah" to celebrate the successful conclusion of both the conference and our magical mission. He pulled it out of his pocket and showed me the screen with "Gavin" and an aubergine displayed.

"Are you going to answer it?" I asked, surprised that he hadn't done so already.

He pressed a little button and shoved the device into his pocket. "No. I sent him to voicemail. I'll see what he has to say for himself first." He sounded determined, but I knew he'd be checking the message in about five minutes. "Our last night in Beantown. Is there anything else you want to do?"

The idea was very enticing, but I really wanted to sit with myself and think about what had happened. I still didn't understand how or why my magic had responded the way it did and I wanted to call Harry and pick his brain. "That's very tempting, love, but I still need to pack and we have an early morning. I think I'm just going to go up and call Harry and let him know I'm all right and that I'm not bringing a ghost back to California with me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Besides, don't you have a phone call to make?" I nudged him with my elbow and waggled my eyebrows up at him, grinning at his blush.

"We'll see. Depends on what his message says." Ben leaned down and kissed my cheek. "See you bright and early!"

We parted ways and I watched as he headed to the bar, phone already glued to his ear, certain he'd be talking to Dr Gavin in a matter of minutes. Back in my room, I took the silver box out of my pocket, looking at it closely. Bereft of the spirit that had inhabited it for so many years it looked a bit more tarnished now, but still beautiful. I wrapped it back up and put it in my suitcase, looking forward to giving it to Harry for Christmas along with the ruby-and-gold cufflinks.

I had just started going through the drawers and gathering up my things when I heard a knock at the door. Expecting to see an excited Ben, I got the shock of my life when I opened the door to reveal Harry standing in the hall with a cheeky grin on his face. He held an ice bucket with a magnum of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other. I am not the least embarrassed to say that I quite literally threw myself at him.

"Hey, hold on," he said, managing to walk into the room with me clinging to his neck as I smothered him in kisses. The door banged shut behind him as he shuffled awkwardly to set the champagne and glasses down on the desk.

"I was just about to call you," I said as he wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me hard enough to make me wheeze. "I missed you so much!"

His chuckle was a warm rumble against my ear as he kissed the top of my head. "I missed you, too, love."

"Who's with Teddy?" I asked, looking up at him.

"He's at Duncan's. Sleepover." I buried my face in his chest again, taking a deep breath of his familiar scent.

"So you don't have to go back right away?"

He stepped back half a step and lifted my chin, kissing me softly. "I thought we could have a sleepover of our own," he whispered against my lips.

"Oh, Mr Potter, I'll have to check with my mum and dad," I teased, sliding off his dragonhide jacket. He had on a thick wooly jumper underneath and heavy boots on his feet. "What sort of expedition are you dressed for?"

"Well, all you've done is complain about how cold it is here; I thought I'd better come prepared." He had an inviting glint in his eyes and a warm flush swept all over me.

"Like you're even leaving this room," I said, sliding my hands underneath the jumper and tee shirt, hungry for the feeling of his soft skin.

"What about breakfast?" His eyes were closed and he was leaning hard into my touch. The thought that he'd missed my touch as much as I'd missed his made my stomach swoop down to my toes.

"That's what room service is for." I pushed the jumper and tee shirt out of the way and leaned forward, fastening my lips on a nipple and sucking hard.

"Hey, watch it!" he yelped, jumping backwards out of my grasp and pulling his shirt and jumper back down. I reached out and grabbed his belt, pulling him back towards me, setting off a very short wrestling match that ended with me facedown on the bed as Harry ravaged the back of my neck, making me shriek in ticklish delight.

"Who's the best Gryffindor Seeker?" Harry breathed in my ear, breath hot against my skin. I squirmed in his iron grip, determined to find a way out. I knew from long experience that I had no hope trying to match his strength, so I relaxed, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

I turned my head as much as I could, catching a glimpse of glittering green eyes and smiled sweetly. "Well, one of us was the youngest Seeker in a century."

"Say it. Say I was the best Gryffindor Seeker and I'll let you up," Harry growled in my ear, making me shiver. I felt him adjust his hold on my shoulder and as quick as a flash I spun around, trapping his lean body between my legs as I heaved with all of my strength and flipped us over, straddling him triumphantly.

" _I_ was the best Gryffindor Seeker!" I crowed, raising my arms over my head in triumph, Harry's loud laughter filling the room. Breathing hard from the exertion, I leaned forward and kissed him hard, thrilling at his groan. The exertion had made me hot and I sat up, pulling off my own heavy jumper and dropping it on Harry's face.

Spluttering, he swept it aside to land on the floor, grinning at the sight of me straddling him in my jeans and bra. Reaching out, he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, raising his eyebrows at the label sewn inside the zipper. "Lucky me, indeed."

Jeans undone, I stretched out on top of him, shoving his jumper and shirt off over his head and lying on his bare chest, enjoying the feeling of being together with him as we kissed like randy teenagers while his warm hands stroked my back. His hands steadily quested downward until they were underneath my jeans and knickers, roving over my bare bum.

"We're not going to have a surprise visitor, are we?" Harry asked, taking a generous handful of said bum and pulling me into his hips.

"No, I think Ben will be talking to his would-be boyfriend tonight," I said, wiggling my hips against his hard cock.

"That's not who I'm worried about. What about your ghost?"

"Oh, he's gone. I sent him packing this afternoon."

"What happened? You all right?"

I propped myself up on my hands, doing a little pushup from his chest and looked at him. "I don't really want to talk about my ghost friend right now." Harry looked momentarily unsure if he'd really upset me or not and I stroked his cheek with my thumb. I knew he'd shaved before coming to see me because he usually had a pretty good crop of stubble by this time. "I think I'd much rather see what you brought me." He looked confused until I scooted down his body, unbuckling his belt before ripping open the button fly of his jeans.

Reaching into his plaid boxers, I carefully adjusted his erection to a more comfortable position before pulling off his boots and socks, letting them fall to the floor, heedless of the occupants of the room below. He raised his hips obligingly as I pulled his jeans off. The stag on his hip taunted me again and I carefully lowered his boxers, lavishing the tattoo with kisses as it was revealed.

"You get way too much enjoyment out of that," Harry commented. I looked up to see him propped up on his elbows, watching me.

"I like him. Besides, I don't hear you complaining." I arched a brow and traced the length of an antler with the tip of my finger, the ink of the wizarding tattoo rippling against his skin at my touch. Ever the considerate lover, I concentrated for a moment and cast a wandless charm to warm my hands before touching him, gently running the palm of my hand over his length. I looked up at him and saw that he was still up on his elbows but had allowed his head to fall back, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Seeing him so undone at my barest touch gave me a delicious shiver and I went to work on him in earnest, suppressing the urge to laugh when he collapsed flat on his back as I used my tongue to trace the pulsing vein that ran along the underside of his cock.

I was just beginning to wonder how thick the walls were in the hotel when Harry gasped and asked me to stop. I gave the head of his cock a goodbye kiss, savoring the saltiness at the tip. Harry had covered his eyes with his hands as he breathed slowly and deliberately, trying to restore some modicum of control. "Have you been a good boy while I've been away?" I asked as I removed my bra.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sweeping his fringe away from his forehead.

I looked pointedly at his erect cock. "I think you know exactly what I mean."

A slow grin came over his face and he put his hands behind his head, making his biceps stand out. "Yeah? What about you?"

I got up on my knees, pushing my jeans down my hips, glad I wasn't wearing laundry day knickers. Leaning over, I put my hands on either side of him, letting my breasts brush against his chest. "Are you asking if I was touching myself during your bedtime stories?" I kissed the corner of his mouth where it curled up into a smile.

"Maybe."

"You think you're a good enough storyteller for that?" He turned to face me as I stretched out next to him, still trying to squirm out of my jeans. He reached out and gently pinched one of my nipples, sending a spark right through me.

"Are you saying I'm not?" His warm hand engulfed my entire breast and he pushed me onto my back, finally helping me get my jeans the rest of the way off. He laid his busy hand between my legs over my knickers, applying a gentle, maddening pressure.

"Hmm, I might need some more examples of your storytelling skills," I said, shifting my hips under his touch. I took off his glasses and tossed them in the general direction of the bedside table. He placed several soft kisses on my chest between my breasts before closing his lips around a nipple and sucking gently. "That's very nice but it's not much of a story," I said, running my fingers through his soft hair.

He slipped a finger into my knickers and stroked along my slit, drawing a shaky breath out of me. "I'll tell you a story afterwards, all right?"

I spread my legs further apart, hoping he'd take the hint. "After what?"

"After I have my way with you," Harry said, taking the hint and applying a teasing pressure to my clit.

"Don't let me delay you, then," I whispered, bringing his mouth to mine in an urgent kiss. My hands were still warm from the charm, so I reached down between us and stroked his cock back to iron hardness, anticipating the feeling of having him inside of me. In moments my knickers were off and Harry's familiar weight pressed me down into the cushy hotel bed.

Our mouths met as he slid excruciatingly slowly into me, pulling a groan from somewhere deep in my chest. _No teenager to worry about here,_ I thought as Harry paused for a breathless moment before withdrawing nearly as slowly. "So it's going to be like that," I said, grinning up at him.

"Like what?" he asked, nipping at my neck. "Are you objecting to me taking my time?"

"You can't keep this up."

"You don't think so?" He'd stopped moving and I stayed still, fighting the urge to move my hips in response, channeling my inner sea star.

"I _know_ so."

"Hmph. Challenge accepted." He started moving again, keeping up the same maddeningly slow pace. I huffed, squirming around underneath him. Sometimes slow and sweet was nice, but it just wasn't what I was in the mood for right now. "Something wrong, love?" Harry looked down at me, a superior grin on his face.

I planted my hands on his bum and pulled him into me on his next downstroke, grunting when our bodies crashed together. "That's more like it," I said, grinning back up at him.

"I was doing just fine," he said, withdrawing almost all the way before pushing back into me with more force.

"You just don't want to admit that I was right," I sighed as he increased his pace, finally reaching just the right spot inside of me. Harry slid his hands underneath my shoulders, pulling me closer to him as he shifted onto his knees. I put my arms around his neck, clinging to him as we focused on driving each other over the edge of the abyss.

"Did you have fun flirting with all of the doctors?" Harry's breath was hot on my neck and I shivered at the raspy sound of his voice.

"Jealous?" I breathed out, dragging my lips over the jumping pulse in his neck.

"Always. Why do you think I bought you that goddamned ring?"

"You're always the one I go home with," I gasped as he pulled out and flipped me over onto my stomach to drive back into me from behind. I loved feeling his body against my back and rose up on my elbows, turning my head to capture his lips with mine as I groaned out my pleasure.

The bed had developed a loud squeak as he increased his pace and I couldn't hold back my giggles as Harry muttered, "Bloody beds," against my shoulder.

"We'll use the floor next time," I said, making him huff out a chuckle that turned into a series of loud grunts as he came, briefly collapsing on top of me before turning us both over on our sides. I held still, very nearly expecting to hear applause from the next room as I regained my breath.

Harry's arms were tight around me and his lips soft on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, listening to his quiet murmurs. He didn't realize it, but he became quite the chatterbox after sex, full of nonsense and endearments. I'd never tell him in a million years, though; he'd get self-conscious and then stop. He was in the middle of telling me how much he'd missed me when I nudged him. "Let me up, I have to take care of business," I said, kissing him on the forehead.

I put some extra wiggle in my walk on the way to the loo and turned to look at him on the bed, surrounded by rucked-up pillows and covers. He looked very pleased with himself as he lounged with his hands behind his head. "I'll want a glass of that champagne when I come back," I said, grinning as Harry jumped to obey.

A few moments later, I was back in bed, sipping very good champagne with my husband. He had just opened his mouth to say something when we heard a brisk knock on the door.

"Housekeeping," Ben called in a high-pitched voice through the door. Harry looked at me, a quizzical look on his face.

"It's Ben," I whispered, pulling the covers of the bed up to my neck.

Harry grinned and hopped out of the bed, quickly pulling his boxers back on and sauntered to the door, taking a moment to run his fingers through his hair. I wasn't sure if he was trying to make it more or less messy. I put my hand over my mouth as he opened the door and leaned casually against the doorframe. "I don't recall requesting a turn-down service," he said.

Ben stood in the doorway, holding a blue and white box. His mouth dropped open in surprise and he turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. "What are _you_ doing here?" he choked out, eyes finding me on the bed.

"I thought I'd come and see a bit of Boston for myself, yeah?" Harry said and I couldn't restrain my laughter anymore, collapsing backwards on the bed as I let loose.

"And here I was thinking that you were seriously feeling awful! I went and stood in line for an _hour_ for these! And the whole time you were in here … doing … stuff!" Ben sounded genuinely affronted and I just laughed harder, completely unable to get myself together. "You said you were going to come back and pack!"

"I'm sorry! He surprised me!" I finally managed to gasp out, certain that I was turning red myself.

Ben just shook his head, muttering "Wizards," under his breath before giving Harry a frankly appraising look. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, mister. I'm never going to know what the rest of that tattoo looks like, I am?" He opened the box and took something out, handing Harry the box. "Well, I waited an hour for this, so I'm going to eat mine. You two will have to share."

"Sorry, mate. Gin's telling the truth, I did surprise her," Harry said, abandoning his casual doorway lean and standing up straight. "With everything that's happened, I had to be sure she was all right." He put his hand on Ben's arm and squeezed. "Listen, I want to thank you for keeping her safe."

"I didn't really do anything. Mostly just kind of stood there," he said, downplaying Harry's praise but I could tell he was pleased.

"You didn't leave her alone in all of this and that's the important part."

Ben shrugged and looked away, mumbling something I didn't catch but made Harry give a short bark of laughter. "Wait a minute. If you're here, where's Teddy?"

"Sleepover at Duncan's."

"Isn't that convenient," Ben said, voice dripping sarcasm.

"It certainly is! Is there anything else we can help you with?"

"No. I suppose you'll be at breakfast tomorrow?" Harry nodded and he cut his eyes to me and pointed. "I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night!"

"Sleep well," I called as Ben shut the door, getting a huffy "You too!" back. "What did he bring us?" I asked as Harry got back into the bed with the box. It was white with blue writing and said "Mike's Pastry" underneath a drawing of a crown. Inside was a cannolo covered in chocolate and chocolate chips. "Oh, that looks scrumptious!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Hm, weren't you the one giving me a crap time over my waistline a few days ago?"

"Don't you blame me for that. That was all you." I took the pastry out of the box and held it up. "Besides, I figure we've burned a little more than a hundred calories just recently. We've earned a bit of a treat."

We took turns nibbling on the pastry in between sips of champagne. I declared it definitely worth waiting an hour in a queue for. "So, your ghost is taken care of?" Harry finally asked, sweeping crumbs off the duvet.

"Finally. That took some doing, I'll tell you," I said, the vision of Lieutenant Hammond transforming the vision of Eliza with a kiss coming back to me.

"Care to tell me what happened? I've never seen one actually go over."

I held out my champagne glass for a refill as I gathered my thoughts. "Well, it was very strange. We actually ended up in the children's hospital. I guess it was built on top of her old house or something." I related our experience of hunting down the ghost while impersonating doctors. "We were sure we'd be caught out at any second, but no one questioned us. Anyway, we found him in a treatment room on the basement level and then …"

"And then?" Harry prompted, looking completely serious for all that he was clad only in those plaid boxers.

"Well, it was very strange. I told you about that weird feeling I had before at the descendant's house? So I had that again, only it was like a hundred times more intense."

"Did it hurt? Did you feel tired? Cold?" Harry asked in his rapid-fire fashion. I knew he was thinking of the incident in Ignatius's basement.

"No, nothing like that. It was sort of how I imagine being electrocuted feels," I said, Harry grunting in response. "I could feel my magic responding to the energy left by Eliza's passing and … she was there."

"What? She was? Like a ghost herself? You said she was a Muggle." Harry looked at me sharply, brows drawn down in a frown.

"No, I don't think a ghost. She didn't feel quite the same as Lieutenant Hammond did to me. It was like the ripple she left combined with my magic to make … something else."

Harry relaxed back against the headboard, absently turning his empty champagne glass around in his fingers as he thought. I let him ruminate as I finished my champagne and set the empty glass down on the bedside table. "I wonder," he finally said, looking pensive. "I don't know if you remember, but when you were in the Chamber, there was a sort of … simulacrum of Tom Riddle. As he was when he was writing in the diary."

I frowned in thought. I wasn't too awfully fond of revisiting those memories, but I knew he wouldn't bring them up unless he had a good reason to. "I barely remember seeing something come out of the diary and then I was out cold."

"Well, we had a bit of a chat and he did the whole _I am Lord Voldemort_ thing. So I have to wonder if the Eliza you saw was maybe something similar?" Harry said. "Did she speak?"

"A little. Mostly to him, but she did curtsey to me. But Harry, the bit of Tom … I mean, there was a piece of soul in the diary. That's where that came from."

Harry shrugged. "Well, who's to say that Eliza didn't leave a small fragment of herself behind when she died? We don't really know what happens, yeah? Maybe on some level she knew that her lieutenant was still hanging about and she left a bit of herself behind."

"And then it combined with my magic to make something that would help Lieutenant Hammond move on. Huh." I thought about Eliza going through her life, plagued by cold spots in her home, all the while certain that her dead lover remained with her. _I suppose even Muggles can do extraordinary things at the point of death._

"It's a theory, anyway. I have some books at home I'll have to look through. Maybe St Ambrose's library has something." Harry looked at me and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "All right? How did the crossing over or whatever happen?"

"One of the walls went all white and glowy and they just kind of walked into it. Oh, Ben could see the both of them. Still can't quite figure out why though."

"Probably because of whatever your magic was doing. That's another thing I'll have to track down. How did Ben take the whole experience?" He pulled me to him and I pillowed my head on his chest.

"He asked me if he should be going to church." Harry's responding chuckle rumbled against my ear. "I guess he was quite shocked to hear the news that souls and the hereafter are real."

"What did you tell him?"

"That he didn't need to go but he could if he wanted to. He asked if we go to wizard church and I said that we didn't really believe in an Almighty." I looked up at him, a question suddenly occurring to me. "Did you ever go to church with the Dursleys?"

"Once. They were Christmas and Easter Christians, yeah? There was one Christmas Eve they couldn't find anyone to leave me with and they didn't trust me by myself." Harry snorted derisively. "Probably afraid I'd watch the telly unsupervised while they were gone."

"What was it like?"

"Boring. I didn't really understand what was going on and Dudley kept trying to pinch me and make me shout during the service. Vernon kept threatening me under his breath. Real Christian of him." He sighed and hugged me tight, kissing the top of my head. "I'm glad you're back."

"I'm not back yet."

"You know what I mean."

I traced my finger up and down his bare thigh. "Speaking of, are you going to make me travel home like a Muggle tomorrow?"

"Hmm, I dunno. Have you earned a faster trip home?" I felt Harry's hand slip down my side to cup my bare bottom, starting up a delicious tingle just behind my belly button.

"I thought I had, but maybe not?" I drew the tip of my finger along the ticklish inside of his knee, making him twitch. I looked up at him and he put his hand on my cheek, drawing me into a series of lavish kisses that sent a thrill from my head to my toes. "Besides, we still have to settle who was the best Gryffindor Seeker," I said, grinning at his warm chuckle.

"So how was your evening?" Ben asked as he sat down at breakfast the next morning, primly spreading a white napkin on his lap.

"Fantastic. Slept like a log. You?" Harry gave him a cheeky grin over his cup of tea and I shook my head at the two of them.

"So, did you have a chat with Dr Gavin?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I did," Ben said, looking down with a coy expression as he spread strawberry jam on his toast.

"And?"

"It went well. It seems I'd called him while his parents were visiting and made things very awkward for him and that's why he was so short."

"Do they not know he's …"

"Gay? They know, but apparently not all that thrilled about it." He shrugged and ate bit into his toast. "We'll see what happens. I'm not hanging my hat on it or anything."

 _So he says,_ I thought, keeping my face neutral. We chatted about inconsequential things as we ate, Harry relating the story of Teddy and Duncan nearly blowing up the Potions classroom which led to Ben telling about that time he'd managed to create napalm with a home chemistry kit when he was a teenager. "I didn't know it would keep burning!" he said, miming throwing it into a gutter. "It just went down into the storm drain and thank God it went out or ran out or whatever."

"Note to self—don't allow Ben to show Teddy how to make napalm. Got it," Harry said, miming writing a note in midair.

"It was just the one time!" Ben checked his watch and groaned. "Ugh, we need to get going if we're going to make that flight."

"What flight?" I asked innocently.

"Our flight home?" Ben paused, staring at Harry. "Wait a minute. You can take us home!"

"Air Potter, at your service. Well, not really _air_ I suppose … more like lack of …"

I rolled my eyes and patted him on the shoulder. "Yes, Harry has graciously offered to take us home today, so we don't have to worry about the flight or spend hours cooped up in those tiny seats."

Ben's eyes suddenly lit up and I felt a tingle of alarm. "Hey, would it be possible for you to drop me off in Chicago?"


End file.
